Keeping it together
by chrysalis escapist
Summary: When a crime endangers the well-being of a little girl Stella gets somewhat too involved. Stella&Mac, Flack&Chocolate & finally glimpses of Angell, Sid, Adam, Hawkes, bits of DL -- finally complete
1. What have we got?

**Disclaimer: Okay, I doubt very much that anybody ****here doesn't know, but I'll say it anyway: all the CSI-characters belong to Anthony E. Zuiker and his crew. All other characters are mine, if I turned you or anybody you know into a victim, a suspect, or worst, a criminal by using a name, please know that it was not intended.**

The house looks as calm as any other in that area. Red brick walls, white window frames with lattice, flower pots on the window sills, lace curtains elegantly draped inside. A nice little porch with a veritable rocking chair, currently occupied by a ruffled old teddy bear. Then you come to the front door with that yellow tape across it. From some point of view this house is now the calmest in the street.

Stella ducks underneath the tape. Mac is already in the hallway, talking to Flack, who now gives them first details.

"Vics are Frank and Marina Carson, 34 and 31. Frank is in the living room and Marina in the kitchen," he points in the direction of the rooms, "their five year old daughter Iota appears to be missing. We haven't been able to contact any relatives yet; she could be staying someplace overnight. Neighbors called it in, but don't seem to know anything else. The family moved here only a week ago. Now that's what I call a bad move."

The corners of his mouth twitch upwards and so do Stella's. No, it's not a funny comment, but she knows that's how Flack copes, her smile is one of sympathy.

--

After a cursory glance at the scene Stella takes up the camera. Flack has gone to continue interviewing the neighbors and to see if there has been any progress in contacting relatives. Mac starts dusting for fingerprints.

Stella looks at the woman in the kitchen, she immediately recognizes the Greek decent. Surprise and fear are frozen into the dark eyes, she saw it coming. Stella takes a picture of the face, another of the blood surrounding the woman's chest, and another of a bloody knife close by, carefully documenting all the traces of the last moments of a life gone by.

She moves on into the living room. The man is sprawled out between couch and coffee table … _click_ … a bullet wound on his right temple … _click … _a puddle of blood between his head and his right hand … _click … _blood spatter on the sideboard just behind him … _click._

Stella pauses, looking at the pictures of the family on the sideboard, one of them showing the little girl between her parents, all of them smiling, pictures of the living. She looks at the camera, pictures of the dead. Suddenly she thinks of Daniela, the baby girl whose nanny had been killed. How good it had felt to take pictures of a living and healthy person for once. She had gotten a little carried away back then, snapping more pictures than they needed.

She sighs and gets up to continue her work. She sees Mac standing in the door and gives him a sad little smile before raising the camera to her eyes again. But he knows her.

"Flack would have told us if they knew anything about the girl," he says, "Hawkes will be here any minute, he can help me finish here. Go on; see if you can find any clues to her whereabouts."

Stella smiles her thanks, hands Mac the camera and heads for the stairs.

--

Stella enters Iota's bedroom, a thick carpet swallows the sound of her steps. She looks around, the room almost brings tears to her eyes, it has been furnished with such loving care. Again she thinks of Daniela, who had not been picked up by her parents for days, and she thinks of her own childhood. She shakes her head to dispel those thoughts. The bed has been made somewhat hastily, but no empty spaces indicate that something is missing, that something cherished has been taken along on a trip. She moves towards the closet to check the clothes.

--

Mac hears a gunshot. He turns around and runs upstairs, towards the sound. Weapon in hand he is about to enter the room when he sees Stella standing next to the bed. She holds out her right hand in a motion to stop and silence him, then points at the closet. Mac understands. He steps back and retreats into the darkness next to the door, opposite the stairs, gun ready to aim at whoever walks out of that room next.

He hears a muffled sound, the sound of a body sinking to the ground, Stella's body. He tries not to consider the option of just emptying his gun into that closet. He has no idea who is in there, it could after all be the girl, and he thinks that Stella would not have sent him out if she had been badly hurt. But he has seen her left arm clutching her side, and she might just as well be protecting him. If he just walks in there he's likely to be the next on the ground, and that would not help her.

He wonders why nobody comes, is he the only one who heard the shot? And where is Hawkes, what if he comes now? What if anybody comes now, further disturbing, upsetting, and tipping the scales in the wrong direction? Then all he can think is that he has had by far too much time to think.

**So, there goes my first attempt at a "real" story with a case, please let me know what you think…**


	2. a new crimescene

**Mmmh, ****thank you! Lovely little reviews, please keep them coming!**

Finally there is a sound, a faint squeaking of the closet door on its hinges. He can't hear any footsteps, but a stifled sob and seconds later a whine, closer now. It must be the child. Mac holds his breath; he sees a shadow creeping over the threshold of the door, the shadow of an arm holding a gun. Judging by the proportions that can't be the girl. The shadow moves, hits the wall on the other side of the corridor, takes the shape of a man. It is joined to a smaller shadow. The second the shadow connects to a body in the door Mac has his gun at the man's temple.

"NYPD. Drop your weapon!" He's a little surprised the man obeys so quickly. "Hands behind your back!"

This time the man is not so obliging. "Why?" he asks, "I didn't do anything."

"Oh yes, you did. You just shot an officer!"

The man lets go of the girl's hand. Mac sees her stepping back into her room and pushing herself against the wall, while he cuffs the man against the banister.

He's already picked up the weapon and rushed into the bedroom when he hears the man say, "Sorry, I thought I had to defend myself."

--

Cell in hand he steps around the bed and is relieved to see Stella looking up at him.

"Let me see," he gently takes her left arm.

There is blood on the sleeve, more blood on the front of her blouse, just above her waist. Carefully he lifts the blouse to look at the wound and cover it. He looks up at her face, there's pain in her eyes.

"Congratulations! You found the girl!" he says.

She manages a little smile, but suddenly she looks troubled. Mac guesses the cause and shakes his head, "She didn't shoot. There is another man, I have no idea how they are connected yet."

Stella is only partially comforted. "Please take care of her, make sure she doesn't see her parents like that," she whispers and almost pushes him away.

Reluctantly he gets up, he knows she's right. The girl is still pressed against the wall, wide-eyed and shivering. He hears someone come up the stairs.

It's Hawkes, greeting him with "Hey, where is Stella?" and looking at the man at the banister, "And who is he?"

Mac points behind the bed, "She's hurt, he shot her." Hearing that Hawkes doesn't wait for the real answer to his second question.

Mac can't help shooting the cuffed man an angry glance before he turns to the girl. He also wants to know who he is, but there is time for that, now the girl needs looking after. And hearing the ambulance in the distance he wonders again why nobody reacted to the shot, and those two uniforms are still out there as if they are on a cigarette break. Uniforms who should have had the house cleared.

--

Mac realizes the girl has been looking at that man all the time, listening to his talk. Mac begins to think that she knows the man; he's the one to tell her everything will be alright, he keeps asking her to come closer, but she doesn't move. Only when Mac crouches down before her she turns from the man and looks at him. Then she looks in the direction of the bed, behind which Hawkes head is now seen.

Mac holds out his hand to her, she doesn't take it. "I'll get you out of here, okay?"

The girl shakes her head and looks in Stella's direction again. He tries some more, always the same reaction: she looks at him when he speaks and just over her bed when he doesn't. With a sigh he gets out his cell again and makes calls. He needs a counselor on this, and he'd still like to know why he was the only one who heard the shot.

When Flack hears what happened he's back at the house in no time, coming up the stairs with the paramedics.

"Get him out of here," Mac tells him, pointing to the man who is still cuffed to the banister, "and clear the way for us," casting a quick, but meaningful glance at Iota. Flack nods.

--

Mac watches from the porch as the ambulance drives off. Iota is sitting on the rocking chair now, huddled against the teddy bear. She followed the paramedics downstairs when they took Stella. Flack is in a heated discussion with the two uniforms. Hawkes has called Lindsay, who now arrives together with the counselor from childcare.

Flack joins them after the counselor has left with Iota, "Well, they didn't think it necessary to check the closet, haven't they ever had monsters in there as children?" His sarcasm is a bit off now because he's angry. He continues, "They claim they didn't hear a shot, only some sort of a crack, and thought nothing of it. I must say I didn't hear anything, so it was probably muffled." Thinking back Mac realizes that he must be right. "Anyway, I'll take him to the station now, and you can bet I have a lot of questions for him."

--

Mac, Hawkes and Lindsay enter the house again, the only place they can get reliable information from. Mac sends Lindsay up to the new crime-scene in Iota's bedroom. The two men continue processing downstairs, collecting everything that might be evidence. They begin to discuss the case, considering different possible courses of events.

"We have to find out what this man was doing here, why he shot Stella, and why he didn't react earlier," Mac says, he knows that there are also other things, things connecting to the original case, but he will not forget about any of them just because he thinks of Stella first.

They come past the staircase. Mac thinks it is very quiet up there. "Lindsay?" No answer. "Lindsay!" louder, still no answer. Mac and Hawkes look at each other.


	3. possibilities

Mac rushes up the stairs for the second time that night, followed closely by Hawkes. This can not be happening, not again. Mac stops at the threshold to that bedroom, hand ready on his gun, and is almost pushed over by Hawkes.

They both watch the door to that treacherous closet move; a hand stretches out, accompanied by Lindsay's voice, "Don't shoot!" The door opens further and Lindsay steps out of the closet, hands held up in a defensive gesture. "Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you. I was just testing something."

The two men are too relieved to be annoyed.

"What were you testing?" Mac prompts her.

"I was wondering why that guy didn't come out earlier. I mean, he should have heard the officers who were clearing this place. What was he afraid of? Getting caught? By whom? I could hear you talking downstairs, but in there," she points behind her back, "the sounds were muffled. And there are a lot of other noises; I think there are pipes passing through that wall. I couldn't make out any words from your conversation, nor recognize your voices."

"So it could be that he really thought the attacker was still in the house …" Hawkes concludes and Lindsay nods.

Mac looks around. He sees the bloodstain on the floor, a reminder he doesn't need, of where he'd rather be right now. But Stella is being taken care of, and he knows she wants him to solve this case, for Iota and herself.

"Let's see, judging from Stella's position when the shot was fired, she was about to open the closet like this," Mac imitates the action, "then from inside the closet he couldn't possibly have seen her badge, or deducted from her looks that she was not the attacker."

"Another point speaking for self-defense." Hawkes says.

--

Lindsay speaks again after some time, "but nothing here really explains why he waited for such a long time,"

"Well, according to Einstein …"

Hawkes begins, but is interrupted by Lindsay, "… time is relative, come on!" she casts him a slightly chiding look.

"Well, yeah, but not only in the strictly scientific sense, if you'd let me finish. Five minutes on a hot stove feel longer than an hour with a pretty girl."

"I could certainly feel the stove part," Mac agrees, "but this guy, he behaved as if he was with the girl …" Hawkes grins, "Ah, well, you know what I mean, not that girl," Mac finishes.

"Anyway, that still doesn't tell us …" Mac is interrupted by his cell. "Hang on a second; I'll put you on hands-free," Mac tells the caller.

Moments later Flack's voice is heard in the room: "The 'monster in the closet' finally has a name, Stuart Miller. And here it gets tricky, he's actually Iota's father. Turns out he and Marina got divorced about a year ago." The listeners look at each other.

"Well, that could explain what he was doing here," Lindsay says, "but why did he have a gun?"

"He claims he managed to snatch it from one of the attackers," Flack explains, "but he was still afraid they'd come back for him and his girl, so he hid."

"That sounds all very well, but I think we might still have to look at the possibility that Stuart Miller actually did this himself," Mac finally voices something that has been nagging him since he heard that last shot. The others agree.

Before they pack up, Lindsay points Mac to something else she found in the closet. Some of the girl's clothes are torn and sprinkled with gunshot-residue. Hanging just over the hole in the door is a thick winter-coat, with a hole in the same place. All together they worked as a silencer for the gun, most likely muffling the shot to a point where it was only heard in the house.

--

Stella is just brought from the anesthetic recovery room when Mac arrives at the hospital. She's still dazed from the anesthetics and hardly aware of his presence. He takes her hand, it's cold, he rubs it gently, watches her eyelids flutter and her eyes move like in a dream when they are closed. He takes her other hand too, and holds them both in his hands and close to his chest to warm them.

She looks at him, begins to focus. She moves her lips, he moistens them with a cloth lying ready on the bedside table, gives her a sip of water.

"Hey," he has her hand in his again, "how do you feel?"

"All padded up and safe," she whispers hoarsely, "what about you – and Iota?"

Mac smiles, "I'm fine, and Iota seems to be holding up really well, she is spending the night in the childcare center." Stella frowns at this. "We have found some relatives, but they are all out of town," he says before she can ask, choosing not to tell her about Stuart Miller just yet.

Mac doesn't tell Stella much about anything that happened before, seeing that she is still very exhausted, and he certainly doesn't want her to speak. They spend some time in silence, exchanging little smiles and talking with their eyes. He does tell her about his impression of Iota; he imagines Stella was like that when she was a girl, already so strong.

Her eyelids are drooping again. The anesthetics are slow to wear off and it's late, Mac feels tired, too.

"Go on, you need to sleep, I'll be okay," Stella whispers, "and don't even think about staying here, get into your comfortable bed."

He smiles at this and gets up, kissing her fingers before he lets go of her hand. She's asleep before he reaches the door, where he turns around to look at her again. He sneaks back into the chair beside her bed.

**Ah, so much dialogue, but I couldn't help it – and believe me, I tried! Anyway, big thanks to those who have already reviewed, and to all the others: feel free to join any time!**


	4. off to work

**Here's a big THANK YOU to all my reviewers for reassuring me. To all the others I repeat: feel free to join any time.**

The ringing of Mac's cell wakes Stella. "Why do I have the feeling that you never left," she mumbles sleepily.

Retreating into a corner, Mac answers the call. "Morning, Hawkes. What's up? Are you making progress already?"

"Yeah, on the odd occasion you're not the only one who doesn't sleep."

Mac smiles at this, especially when it dawns on him that he has slept very well in spite of being cramped into a hospital chair.

"Have you been to see Stella? How is she?" Hawkes asks.

"I'm with her right now and she seems to be fine, she's giving me that mischievous smile again."

"Okay, we found the owner of the gun, a Michael Bloom. Flack is bringing him in now." Mac raises his eyebrows, that sounds almost too easy. "Sid is starting on the DBs. I'll put Danny on the fingerprints as soon as he comes in, that will keep him busy for a while. I'll continue with the gun and the knife."

"Good, I'll join you soon," Mac says.

"Off to work then?" Stella asks.

"Yeah, I'll see you later," Mac replies, chilled by the sensation how much that just felt like saying good-bye to Claire.

--

"Michael Bloom, do you know why you are here?" Flack asks the suspect sitting opposite him.

"Something about a gun you found?" The man is shifting nervously.

"Your gun, to be exact, and on a crime scene. Care to explain that?"

"Eh, it was stolen …"

"How very convenient!" Lindsay's voice is dripping with sarcasm, "and you didn't think of reporting that?"

"I … I only … noticed this morning," Michael sounds embarrassed.

Flack and Lindsay look at each other. "Are you telling us you bought a gun and neglected to look after it? Two people were killed and one officer wounded with your weapon!" Flack explodes. Michael's eyes go wide at this.

"Okay, let's say we believe you. Where do you usually keep your gun? Who could have had access?"

"I don't really like to have a weapon in the house, so I left it in a locker in my shed."

"And who can get into your shed?" Lindsay asks, and seeing the man hesitate continues, "no, don't even say it, the shed wasn't locked." The man nods weakly. "And you didn't notice that the locker had been forced open?"

"Well, it's not like the door was standing wide open. It was only a small padlock, still hanging in its place, and the door was pushed closed again."

Flack is fuming at Michael's stupidity, "Okay. But don't think of leaving town, you're not off the hook yet."

--

Sid is getting to work on the corpse of Frank Carson. While cause of death is obviously the gunshot-wound to the head, he is looking for the background story now. He checks the hands of the victim first. Frank Carson's hands are not those of a hard worker, but they are smudged at the tips and Sid doesn't want any evidence to be compromised by the ink when he takes the fingerprints. He bags the swabs for the trace lab, and turns to Marina Carson's body. Her hands are clean, but under her fingernails he finds skin tissue. Samples go to DNA, two sets of fingerprints to Danny.

--

Danny eyes the table before him. He has been on it for some time now, and the pile of unidentified fingerprints doesn't appear to be getting any smaller. Fingerprints from the doors, from a number of windows, fingerprints from anywhere near the dead bodies, and also from Iota's room. He doesn't really want to imagine how many people had helped the family move. With a sigh he scans yet another fingerprint.

Lindsay comes in, "Hawkes just gave me these." She hands him an envelope with fingerprints Hawkes pulled off the gun, the bullets, and the knife. He makes a face.

She sits down next to him, "Found anything yet?"

"Other than that the family had many friends, no." He sounds frustrated.

She pats his knee and asks, "What's with the different stacks?"

He points to a small stack on the left. "These are so small they must be children's, probably Iota's. These" he points to two other stacks, "belong to Frank and Marina Carson. And these…" his finger moves along a line of stacks on the edge of the table when the computer makes a faint bleep to get their attention.

They look at the screen. A match, his face lights up, drops again, another print that is only in the system because he scanned it earlier that day. He marks it and puts it on one of the stacks he has lined up on the table's edge. The stack topples and falls. They both sigh.

--

Hawkes finds Lindsay and Danny in the break room. "Hey, has either of you seen Mac?" The two shake their heads simultaneously. "Strange, he said he would join us soon."

"Maybe he got held up on the way," Lindsay suggests.

"But that was this morning, what could keep him so long?" They look at each other and shrug.

"Anyway, Danny, have you identified the fingerprints on the bullets yet?"

"Yeah, they all belong to Michael Bloom."

"All the ones that were there anyway," Hawkes says and continues when he sees his colleagues' questioning looks, "Strange thing is that there were no fingerprints on the three bullets that had been loaded last. It could well be that someone else put them in there."

"That would corroborate Michael's story," Lindsay remarks, "Personally I don't think that he's smart enough to plant misleading evidence. I'm pretty sure though, Flack would love to hold him anyway, and not just for carelessness."

Sid joins them. "Marina had quite a story to tell. I found bruising on her wrists, her shoulders, her thighs and her back. All from different times, the oldest ones on her thighs, the most recent ones on her wrists. So I'm thinking domestic violence, or a rough love life. You know, I once dated a girl who …"

"Eh, Sid?" Hawkes interjects, but of course that can't stop the ME.

The others share glances and grin as he rambles on about former dates. They look up in surprise when Sid stops mid-sentence of his own accord.

He looks out the door, "Mac?" They all look in the same direction.

Mac is pacing the hallway, an envelope in his hand. His face is frozen into a mask. He looks up when he sees the members of his team file out of the break room, but doesn't say a word. They gather around him.

"What's the matter?" Lindsay asks. He looks at her in silence, but something is at work in his eyes, bitterness and anger. "Mac! What happened?" she urges him.


	5. the case within the case

**Thanks to all those who keep on reading, and a special thanks to those who review, you make me happy!**

When he realizes that his behavior is worrying his colleagues Mac breathes in and out slowly. He looks into the round, raises the envelope in his hand and finally speaks, "I went by the childcare center on my way in, to see how Iota is bearing up." He has to measure his breath again to calm down. The others eye him expectantly but give him time. He concludes, "There are clear signs that Iota has been mistreated, and even some indication that she may have been abused."

Now they look at each other. Lindsay is biting her lip; Danny is pulling her closer, leans his face into her hair. Hawkes' usually serene face is tightening and he's fisting his hands.

Sid studies the wall carefully, thinking that the only good thing about this is that Iota is not lying on his table. He hates himself for having theorized on a rough love life. "Eh, listen, Mac, I also found signs of mistreatment on the mother's body. I think I should compare them." Mac agrees and hands him the envelope.

--

"Hi again," Stella greets him with a smile when he enters the room. Her smile fades when she sees his expression. He can't hide his emotions from her. But she also sees that he doesn't want to talk about it right now. So she says, "Flack came for a visit before noon. He was ranting about certain people not looking after their weapons." Mac seizes the opportunity and they chat about their colleague for a little while.

He can't put it off any longer. He's searching for words to make it sound less harsh, but there are none. No matter how one phrases it, it's an atrocity. She reaches out and puts her hand on his, squeezing it gently. He tells her. She pulls away her hand, not because she wants to let go off him, but because she needs to hide her face. Then she looks at him, hands still clasped before her mouth. He shudders at what he sees in her eyes.

"Who …?" she asks, barely audible, he shrugs.

"As long as we don't know who it was she will have to stay in the childcare center. They won't risk placing her with any relatives or friends of the family yet." He sees how Stella is torn at this. "However, I talked to them, and they would like you to come and see her as soon as you get out of here." He ignores the fact that this was his idea.

"But won't I remind her of what she has been through?"

"No. Not in a bad way, I'm sure."

"How do you know?"

He thinks of Iota ever so often looking at Stella that night, and then following down the stairs when she was brought to the ambulance. "I just feel it."

"Mac Taylor listening to his guts," she glances at him with a faint smirk, pretending to be surprised.

"Not really. I'm listening to the evidence I have of you being a sensitive and caring person." His words and his smile warm her in spite of the cold reality of the case.

"What do you think, when will they let me out of here?"

"Since the bullet didn't cause much harm and you heal fast, in three or four days," he takes a deep breath because he knows she won't like what else he has to say, "but I don't want you to come back to work right away."

"Mac, I …" she sounds wound up, but he doesn't let her finish.

"I know what this case means to you but I can't let you work a full shift …"

"Make it half a shift then," this time she interrupts, bargaining.

"We'll see." Another idea is creeping into his mind.

She lets it rest for the moment, seeing that there are other things she can do for Iota now.

--

Sid is back on the bodies. He squints at the pictures Mac has given him, then at Marina's body, swaying back and forth between the two foci. This time he's not humming. He carefully studies the pattern of the bruising, labeling them chronologically. He measures and compares sizes of bruises and hands and catches himself hoping that Frank's hands are a match, because it would mean that the ordeal is over for Iota. He spreads his hands over Marina's bruises hesitantly; feeling like the criminal because he's replicating the actions, although all he wants to do is find out how exactly the bruises got there.

--

Flack breaks his stride when he sees Danny and Lindsay. They are back in the same lab, bending over a table, and discussing silently. He walks over to them.

"Hey," Lindsay greets him, "have you heard …"

"Yeah, Hawkes told me," he replies before she has to finish the sentence. Then he changes the topic. "I've spoken to Stuart Miller again. Probably not very reliable, but I thought I'd get his version of the attack anyway. He said that there were two attackers. He doesn't know how they got in the house, but said that the Carson's usually don't lock the doors until they go to bed."

"Not a good idea in this city!" Lindsay exclaims, "How can anybody not know that?"

"As I said, not very reliable, he might be making that up because he's involved. He also said that the assailants wore gloves and that we shouldn't expect to find fingerprints."

"And you're telling me that now?" Danny snaps.

"For the third time: not a reliable source. And I would have told you earlier if I had known, but you'd still have to check the fingerprints." Flack retorts.

"Sorry, it's just that …" Danny's resentment deflates.

"Yeah, I know, me too." Flack sympathizes, "That guy is so smug, I mean, to tell us we shouldn't expect to find prints. My guts are practically screaming at me that he's got something to do with it."

"Unfortunately your guts won't get us a search warrant for his place. And neither will his assault on Stella, we have absolutely no proof that he did it with intent." Danny's frustration is building up again.

"Oh!" Lindsay's face suddenly brightens a little, "But we can get one because of what happened to Iota, can't we?"


	6. small steps

"Yeah, in such a case they don't usually wait for proof." Flack agrees, adding "And if they do I'll find someone who owes me a favor," between gritted teeth.

"In the mean time I think we should do some digging in Michael Bloom's story. If somebody really forced his locker open we might find evidence there who did it," Lindsay suggests, "even if he has already tampered with it."

"Don't worry; I made sure he wouldn't consider doing that any longer." Flack growls. After a short pause he speaks again, "I was thinking: even if the doors weren't locked, as Stuart claims, shouldn't there have been some sign of forced entry anyway? Usually with these doors you lock yourself out just when they fall shut. And since the house has lattice on all the windows the door was the only way in."

"Good point. So we'll check for spare keys and if any of the former inhabitants 'forgot' to return theirs." Danny gets his hopes up to get away from the fingerprints.

"I'll take care of that then, and the warrant." Flack says and turns to leave, ignoring Danny's annoyed look.

--

Adam comes into the lab just moments later, holding a print-out in his hands. "Hey, I've got the results of the substance Sid found on Frank Carson's fingertips. It's ordinary printer's ink as used in most newspapers, and garden soil. There's too much of the ink to be a transfer from just reading a paper, but I can't imagine what he did to get it on him, especially since it was quite well mixed with the garden soil, suggesting that the two substances were transferred at the same time."

"Maybe it will make sense later, maybe it's irrelevant, we'll see." Lindsay is interrupted by a faint bleep. For a moment they all wonder where it comes from, not having expected it.

"Are you still working on those fingerprints?" Adam wonders.

Danny nods wearily and turns towards the computer screen. Then he stares at it open-mouthed.

"What …?" Lindsay asks, moving closer to him to see for herself.

"I can't believe it!" Danny is almost tempted to take off his glasses and clean them. "We have a match, I mean, a real match. This guy is in A.F.I.S.!"

"And not just for one thing," Lindsay adds after having scanned the respective lines on the screen. She pats Danny on the shoulder, "Manuel Sans, let's bring him in!"

"Hey Adam. Don't worry about your results. I hear Hawkes didn't get much from ballistics either, only what we already expected: all stria on the three bullets match the gun." Danny wants to share a little of his reborn optimism.

--

Next morning Lindsay meets Danny on the way to the interrogation room. "Morning Danny, could you take Adam along when checking Michael Bloom's shed. I'd like to join Flack when he's questioning Sans."

Danny frowns, nothing against Adam but he'd rather do this with Lindsay, "Do I have a choice?"

"Look at it from the positive side." Lindsay baits him with a sweet smile, "This time you'll get to collect the fingerprints. I'll do the analyzing."

"Okay, okay. But I'll hold you to it!" Danny marches off in search of Adam.

--

"Manuel Sans." Flack addresses the man sitting on the other side of the table. "Do you …"

He's interrupted by that man. "That's what I get for doing my job, man? A free ride here?" emphasizing the 'here' with a lot of dislike. "Not exactly the Ritz!"

"It's not supposed to be!" Flack snaps, "But I'm sure you have seen worse places."

Sans interrupts him again, "Ha-ha! So because of my background you think I'm your guy for …, what was it again?"

"Murder!" Lindsay hisses, already wishing that she had accompanied Danny instead. "And it's not because of your background, it's because we found your prints on the scene."

"Of course you did! And you'll find them in many other places. I work as a professional mover!" Sans points angrily at a tag on his overall.

"What else does your job include? Finding out if it's worth entering a house and how to do it maybe?" Flack asks.

"You're getting it all wrong. I'm a decent man now!" Sans replies heatedly.

Flack almost laughs at this. _Decent, like hell! _he thinks. "You wouldn't happen to have an alibi for Monday between 6 and 9pm then?"

"Sure I have one, but don't I just know that for you guys having a ticket for an event doesn't prove I actually went there. Great!" Sans growls, "Just great! You can lock me up again, does that make you happy?"

--

"Mr. Taylor." In the childcare center Mac is greeted by the nurse he spoke to the day before. "Then you must be Ms Bonasera," the woman turns to Stella, holding out her hand, "I'm Nurse Alexander."

Stella takes the offered hand, "Pleased to meet you."

"Glad to see they already released you," Nurse Alexander says. Stella gives Mac a quick but appreciative glance; he has talked her doctor into letting her out for a couple of hours, provided that she's not left alone during that time. "Please have a seat!" the nurse motions them over to a table with some chairs around it.

Mac and Stella follow her and sit down. Stella looks a bit apprehensive now, she wonders again if this really is a good idea. "I know it's soon, but have you got any clues as to who mistreated Iota?" the nurse starts speaking again.

"Not yet. We do know that it wasn't her mother or her stepfather." Mac replies, remembering what Sid has told him about his findings, "Most likely it was a male person though, judging by the size of the bruises."

"I see. Too bad she had to lose her parents." Nurse Alexander states, "I wonder though why this has gone unnoticed for so long. Sure enough the bruises were covered by clothing, but the mother at least should have seen them."

"The mother had been mistreated too, most likely by the same person." Mac explains.

"I see," the nurse says again. "I'll bring Iota in in a moment. I heard from the counselor who brought her here that she didn't seem to be bothered too much by your presence," she addresses Mac, "may I ask you however to stay in the background." She turns to Stella, "Please don't ask her any questions in the direction of who hurt her. At this age any such question could be manipulating and it was already bad enough for her to have those pictures taken." Stella nods. "If you'd move over there," Nurse Alexander continues, pointing to a row of chairs along the wall, "that way we can leave it up to Iota whether she wants to approach you."

Stella gets up and walks towards the indicated chairs. She watches the nurse leave through a door in the back. She looks around; the place is painted with warm colors and decorated with pictures suitable for children, but it is an official place, and it lacks the warmth of a home. Stella glances over at Mac who nods encouragingly, she smiles at him. The door in the back opens again, Nurse Alexander comes into the hall, leading Iota by the hand. She lets go of the girl's hand and steps back to see what happens.

**Thanks for staying with me, and a special thanks to al****l reviewers. I'm sorry that I didn't always reply personally, sometimes I lose track of who already got a reply. It doesn't mean that your opinion is not appreciated, so please don't hesitate to tell me what you think. You can start right here ;-)**


	7. closer

Iota's hand remains halfway in the air for a moment. She looks up at the nurse, is she expected to do anything? Nurse Alexander just smiles at her, a smile that tries to say: whatever you do, it's okay. Iota looks around, sees the man who cuffed her father sitting at a table in the farthest corner. She looks at the nurse again, then back at Mac. Is he waiting for her? He doesn't look at her; he looks at someone else in the room.

Iota lets her eyes wander around the room, wondering who he is looking at. Then she sees the woman who was hurt in her bedroom. She takes an almost hasty step towards Stella, pauses, when nobody calls her back she takes another step. Another pause, another step, she turns around to look at the nurse again. Nurse Alexander is still smiling, nothing wrong with what she's doing. Iota looks at Stella again, who looks back at her with a welcoming smile. Every step that closes the distance between them is accompanied by a pause, each pause shorter than the one before.

They are eye to eye now. Stella's eyes are not the color of her mother's, but they are equally kind. Iota reaches out carefully and stops her hand right over where she knows the wound is, brushing the fabric only when Stella breathes in. Stella blinks quickly to fight back the tears. She takes the little hand and pushes it down on her blouse.

"It's okay, it doesn't hurt." she whispers. _Not as much as you must be hurting,_ she thinks.

Iota looks directly into Stella's eyes, then she reaches up and wraps her little arms around Stella's neck. Stella pulls her closer and lifts her up a little to let the girl sit on her left leg. They remain silent in their embrace, with Iota resting her head on Stella's shoulder and Stella inclining her head so that her curls shield them both.

Mac stops watching them only for a moment when he realizes that Nurse Alexander has come to the table, smiling warmly. "You were right." she says simply.

Mac hears respect in her voice. "So do you think it would be okay to come for more visits?" he asks without looking at her. His eyes are on Stella and Iota again.

"Definitely!" They watch in silence for a moment before she continues, "Do you know yet when the funeral will be? Maybe Ms Bonasera could take Iota. I'll come too, of course, but I'm sure Ms Bonasera can offer her more comfort."

Now it's Mac's turn to smile warmly, "I'll let you know as soon as we can release the deceased for burial, and I'm sure Stella, Ms Bonasera, will be there."

--

Danny and Adam meet Lindsay in the hallway when they come back from processing Michael Bloom's shed.

"Hey Lindsay, how was the interview?" Danny asks.

"Uhm, well. Why don't you put that stuff in the layout room? I'll take care of it in a moment." she replies pointing to their bags and makes an escape towards the restroom.

Danny and Adam look at each other and shrug, although Danny has some idea what happened. They come past the break room on the way to the layout room and see Flack inside. He's munching on a chocolate bar with more force than is actually necessary. That confirms Danny's suspicion.

"Hey Flack, did Lindsay walk out on you during the interrogation?" he asks.

"Actually, no, she just beat me to the door." Flack says between bites, "I know I should be checking that bastard's alibi now, but if it checks out we can't hold him any longer and …, it should be illegal to annoy me!" he finishes of his rant and the chocolate bar.

Danny chuckles, while Adam cringes a little and thinks that an annoyed Flack should indeed be illegal.

"Anyway," Flack is calming down quickly, possibly due to the serotonin in the chocolate, "I've got the search warrant for Stuart Miller's place. Hope you'll find something useful there. No luck with the keys, only Marina's brother has a spare one, and he was definitely out of town, ended his business trip early when he heard what happened."

"And the key wasn't stolen?" Danny asks, "I mean, you never know."

"Not this time, he actually had it with him on the trip. Not everybody is as careless as Michael Bloom." Flack frowns again thinking of that guy.

"Oh well, yeah." Danny is reminded of the bags of evidence they are still carrying, "The locker was most likely forced open with one of the tools he kept in the shed."

"Under the circumstances it's kind of strange though that Bloom did not keep any bullets in the locker or the shed. He had them in the house." Adam joins in the conversation, "I'm telling you, DNA is a lot easier to understand than human behavior. Speaking of which, the results from the skin tissue and the blood on the knife should be ready. Can I just give you these?" Not waiting for an answer he passes the bags he's been carrying to Flack.

"You still here?" Lindsay asks, coming back from the restroom, "Come along now, show me what you've got."

Danny and Flack follow her to the layout room. "You know you'll be stuck here for a while." Danny grins.

"I'm fine with that, actually. I'm done talking to people for today." She hastily adds, "Excluding you, of course. But you'll be going to Stuart Miller's place anyway, won't you? Mac put Hawkes in charge and officially this is about what happened to Iota …"

Thinking of the girl immediately darkens their mood. Danny begins emptying the bags onto the layout table and sits down with Lindsay to examine the evidence he and Adam have gathered. Flack leaves to find out if anybody at the game on Monday remembers seeing Manuel Sans.

**Thanks for reading, as usual reviews are much appreciated.**** You can start anytime, though you know what they say about now being the right moment ;-)**


	8. what makes a home?

**I'm very sorry you had to wait so long, real life got in the way, hope the length can make up for it a little.**

**I loved all the reviews I had so far; please continue to let me know what you think, or start here.**

The old man shuffles his feet nervously, fumbling the keys on his chain with arthritic fingers. Finally he holds one up in a shaking hand. "I'm so sorry about this. I should have checked Mr. Miller's background, I guess …"

"It's okay, Mr. Jenkins." Hawkes stops him, "There's nothing you could have done. In fact we checked his background and found nothing." Hawkes decides to take the key from the trembling hand and open Stuart Miller's apartment. "And we don't know if we will find anything now, please keep that in mind."

Mr. Jenkins relaxes a little bit, but only for a moment, "Oh, but I touched several things in there, I may have compromised your …"

Again Hawkes doesn't let him finish. "No need to worry. I will simply take your fingerprints for comparison and it's no problem." He glares at Danny who is rolling his eyes but decides not to say a single word after that glare.

The old man meticulously wipes the ink off his fingers after the procedure. "Can I get you anything, a coffee perhaps, or some water?" his voice sounds strained.

"No thanks," Hawkes shakes his head, "we are fine here, but why don't you sit down and have a nice cup of tea. If we need anything else I'll know where to find you." He smiles seeing Mr. Jenkins slowly make his way down the corridor. "Why is it always the wrong people who feel guilty?" he asks, half to himself, when he's sure the man is out of earshot.

"Because they're banding together with the bad guys to make our jobs more difficult?" Danny's comment earns him another glare from Hawkes. "Well, he's not helping us with it." he shrugs.

They look around the apartment, then they look at each other. Danny is the first to speak. "Well, I must say, I expected a little bit … more."

He looks around again, leaning forward as if that would increase his field of vision. He looks at blank walls, no pictures, no wallpaper, not even a real color. The 'bed' is just a mattress on the floor, a cover carelessly crumpled over it. Several pieces of clothing are tossed over a chair and into an open suitcase lying on the ground.

"Good thing is, we're not looking for the obvious." Hawkes states. "Okay for you if I take the computer?"

"Sure, go ahead. I'm just hoping your 'don't know if we will find anything now' wasn't prophetic." Danny walks over to the closet, suddenly overcome by a disturbing feeling. He opens it cautiously, ready to jump at the slightest movement or sound. It is empty, completely empty. He looks back at the suitcase. "Those must be the only clothes he had here." he points out to Hawkes.

"Flack said the guy moved here about a month ago. And the landlord thought he was here for business. He probably never planned to stay." Hawkes speaks without moving his eyes from the computer screen.

"Yeah, but still, wouldn't you get a few things to turn this place into a home. Bring some CDs, books, I don't know, just … something." Danny wonders. "Does he at least have TV on that computer?"

"No." Hawkes continues searching through the files on the computer, opens everything that looks suspicious and everything that does not. All he finds are tables grouping together materials, prices, and item numbers, nothing but work.

Hawkes looks over at Danny who is now bending over the suitcase, having only found empty shelves and drawers in the whole place. Danny digs through some clothes and feels something rather hard underneath. He pulls it out; it's an old pencil-case. He zips it open. Inside are no pencils, just pictures. About twenty pictures of Iota, some together with her father, some with jagged edges where another person has been torn from them.

Hawkes hacks into Miller's mailing program and reads through the mails. Just the usual spam and a couple of business mails, the most suspicious one showing that Stuart Miller has taken time off of work to come to New York.

"Well, would you look at that!" Danny interrupts Hawkes' frustrated thoughts. Hawkes complies immediately, sees Danny holding up a gun in his right hand and a box of bullets in his left.

--

Stella balances on her heels, counting up the floors on the elevator. Time has passed quickly with the team visiting her in hospital, and herself visiting Iota. But still she can't wait to get back to work. She realizes that Mac breaks into a smile as he watches her. She beams back at him, blushes a bit and tries to calm down. Finally the doors open on their floor. He leads her out and towards his office.

They meet Hawkes on the way. "Stella! Good to see you're back." He squeezes her lightly, "But you are not starting work right away!" he looks at her seriously.

"Don't worry," she assures him, "I'll be gone again in an hour or so. I just wanted to know what you've found out so far."

"Ah, that's why you called a meeting for now." Hawkes turns to Mac who nods.

They enter Mac's office together. Mac insists that Stella sits in his chair; he remains standing at her side. Hawkes takes the opposite chair. They don't have to wait long for the others to arrive. Lindsay and Danny come first, with Adam on their heels. Mac sees Sid coming out of the elevator as they enter his office. Flack comes from the direction of the break room with a supply of chocolate bars in his hands.

Stella grins when she sees him, "Is that" she points at the chocolates, "a good sign or a bad sign?"

He thinks about it for a moment while throwing a bar over to her, "Probably both, one is definitely for celebrating your return. But this case has been driving us crazy, hasn't it?" He looks at the others, offering the chocolates around but hoping that no one will accept. Danny and Adam crush his hope.

"Okay, Sid, why don't you start?" Mac gets to the serious part of the meeting.

The ME reluctantly turns his eyes away from Stella. "As we expected COD was a shot to the head in Frank's case and a shot to the chest for Marina. The bruises I found on Marina's body could be from Stuart Miller, or anybody else with the same size of hands." he looks down at his own hands, which happen to fit as well.

Stella follows his glance and thinks that he suddenly looks old. She wishes he were standing closer to her. When he looks up again she meets his eyes. What he sees brings the ghost of a smile to his face.

Adam takes over, "The skin tissue Sid found under Marina's fingernails was her own. She seems to have had a nasty itch. You said you also found some scratches?" he looks to the ME for confirmation, continues when Sid nods, "The blood on the knife was also Marina's. I tried around a bit thinking that she must have dropped it when she was shot. Depending on the angle at which it hit the ground it could have bounced and eventually landed outside the puddle of blood. But that doesn't really make sense, how did the blood get on it?"

"It's more likely Marina pushed it away when she died." Hawkes interjects.

"Oh …" Adam's face falls at this. He takes a bite of his chocolate and chews it over as he does his thoughts.

"As you probably know already," Danny takes the next turn, "we weren't too lucky with the fingerprints. All alibis of the people we could connect to the crime scene checked out. We found nothing new in either Michael Bloom's shed or Stuart Miller's apartment …"

"Nothing new is a bit exaggerated." Hawkes throws in, "We found pictures of Iota in Stuart's suitcase. All family pictures," he hastens on when he sees the concerned expression on Stella's face, "but they did show that the break-up wasn't very friendly. All pictures were older than six months and Marina had always been torn from them. The password for Stuart's mailing program was 'Iota' and her date of birth. I also found an email that proves he was not here for business reasons. However, it's not illegal to lie to your landlord about why you need to rent the place." Remembering the kind Mr. Jenkins, he thinks to himself, _It's only mean._ "Danny also found a gun, the same caliber as the one used on the scene, but that alone means nothing."

"In short we have trails turning cold and several pieces pointing to Mr. Miller, but nothing conclusive." Mac sums up.

Flack rips open his third and last chocolate, "And the bad news is, Stuart Miller is getting out on bail. He's been complaining all the time that he should be with his little girl."

Stella darts an anxious glance at Mac. "Don't worry," he reassures her, "we won't let him near Iota." _Or you._ he adds in his thoughts. "He might come to the funeral, but we will all be there."

"What about…" Stella begins but can't finish the sentence because she sneezes.

"What about what?" Hawkes asks a few moments later.

"I don't remember." Stella frowns.

"You mean you sneezed it out? I didn't…" Danny stops when Stella glares at him and Lindsay boxes him on his arm.

"Messer!" Stella growls, "Don't make me laugh, that sneeze already hurt enough!"

Danny looks down with a sheepish I'm-sorry-grin.

"Anyway," Stella begins again, "is there anything that you haven't looked at yet, anything that seemed unrelated maybe? Let me …"

Hawkes interrupts her, "Oh no, you won't! We will swap the evidence around and have new eyes look at everything."

Stella concedes with a sigh. Hawkes breaks up the meeting assigning new tasks to everyone. Mac watches his team file out and get back to work. When he turns to look at Stella she's facing the window. He thinks it has been a long time since he last appreciated the view. He sees Stella's reflection in the glass and feels that she's not really looking outside.

He crouches down beside her, "Have you ever thought of taking in a foster child?"

She hesitates for a moment, not wishing to tell him how often she has thought about just that in the last few days. "Yes, but the system doesn't allow single working mothers. And to be honest, I wouldn't want to work the hours I work here with a child at home."

"And I can't afford to lose my best CSI." Mac tries to let it sound buoyant, but the thought of not seeing Stella almost every day hurts him.

He sees another sneeze coming when she wrinkles her nose. Before Stella is able to draw the preceding quick breath he snatches her hand and pinches one of her fingers.

"Hey, what …?" she bursts out, continuing, "Oh, thank you!" with a smile when she realizes that the urge to sneeze has passed. "I guess I have to stay around then, I need you!" she teases, but a part of her feels serious about it.

"I guess I should really say 'yes' now," Mac replies, smiling warmly, "but actually this little trick also works when you do it yourself."


	9. deep inside

**I loved all the reviews I had so far; please continue to let me know what you think, or start here. I always like to hear from my readers. I also hope that those who have this on alert enjoy it.**

Sid sits in the small office by the morgue, whipping a biro through his fingers. Naturally he has been exempt from the assignment of new tasks. He doesn't have to wait here, doing nothing, but he's plain not in the mood to see Hawkes re-examine the bodies. The biro snaps into the air and hits the floor with a dull click and a hiss as it skids out of sight on the smooth surface. He picks up another one and continues to staccato his thoughts following the quick motion.

When the doors to the morgue swing open Hawkes looks up, expecting Sid. He wiggles his finger at Stella, who comes halfway in, keeping the doors from swinging back with her hands raised to them.

"Have you forgotten where your home is?"

"You mean it's not here?" she returns, "But don't worry, I'm on my way out. Just wanted to say bye, and …" she bents forward to take in more of the morgue, "is Sid around here?"

"I last saw him in his office; don't know if he's still there."

Thanking him she pulls away from the doors, they fall shut behind her. Hawkes is suddenly overcome by the thought of how close they had been to having those doors shut behind her in a different way.

Stella enters the small office and finds Sid kneeling on the floor, bending down to peer under one of the shelves. He looks up, caught by surprise and without enough time to settle his features. She crouches down next to him and looks him straight into the eyes. She's looking for words she thought she had ready, but they disintegrate at his expression. She decides to start with something else.

"What are you looking for?"

He sits on his heels, unclicks his glasses, clears his throat, "I kind of shot my biros under there." He points to the shelf.

She barely contains her eyebrows, "All of them?"

His chuckle is dry and rasping, "Enough of them."

"And did it help?"

He shakes his head. Now would be the time for those words, if only she could remember the ones that don't sound trite. Unspoken words hang in the air between them.

He speaks instead of her, "It's okay. I'm fine, by comparison."

She nods, understanding, fishes under the shelf to retrieve the biros. They both get up, Sid's joints protesting. Stella puts the biros on the desk and on an impulse wraps her arms around him before she goes.

--

Mac sits in one of the more comfortable corners of the building, designed to have a talk with those people related to the case who are not suspects. Marina's brother sits opposite him, his big frame sinking so deep into the couch he looks lost.

"I'm very sorry for your loss, Mr. Lakis." Mac opens the conversation with words that have begun to sound empty to him a long time ago.

Mr. Lakis' head sinks into his hands, "I was so happy when Marina said they'd move to New York. I had been asking her for years to come back, back to where most of her family lives. But she was with Stuart. Then she got the divorce and I started looking for a place for her. I wanted my little sister to live here and I brought her here to die." The words are muffled by his hands and his tears.

"The only one who is to blame is the one who did this to your sister and your brother in law." More words sounding hollow after repeated use. "I would like to ask you a few questions about Marina. It might help us understand what happened." Mr. Lakis nods. "Do you know why she got a divorce?"

"All I know is that it wasn't because of Frank, although it may seem so because she married him only four months later. I think Stuart was very unhappy about it, also about her moving away with his daughter." Mr. Lakis buries his head for a second time. "Can I ask you something?"

Mac nods and the other man speaks again, "Why does Iota have to stay in the childcare center? Is something wrong?"

Watching carefully for any change in his opposite's expression Mac answers, "We have reason to believe that she was abused."

If possible, Mr. Lakis' face falls even further. It takes him some time before he is able to speak again, time during which Mac begins to think that this man can not be the one who did it.

Finally words make their way to the surface and confirm Mac's thoughts. "There isn't a home without a man in our family. Will she ever be able to live with one of us? Will she ever be able to smile again?"

--

There is no more hesitating when Stella comes to see Iota in the childcare center. Hand in hand they walk to one of the smaller and more private rooms in the back. Stella puts a pencil-case on the table.

"Would you like to draw something?" she asks the little girl.

Iota nods and sits down to unpack the colors; Stella gets a few sheets of paper, sits down next to the girl. She watches Iota pick one of the colors and start drawing. A green pullover, blue trousers; hands and face are outlined with pink. There's a pause, Iota looks at the pencil-case, looks back at the picture, then again at the pencil-case. Her hand is hovering over one of the pencils, but she doesn't take it. She takes the one next to it, carefully avoids touching the other. She draws brown curls. Stella picks up the shunned pencil.

"How does this color make you feel?" she asks gently, holding it out.

Iota finds her voice, feeble from disuse and broken by fear, "Bad … it's … bad. It's … the Devil is in there and … and if I use it, he'll … come and get me."

The burning white-hot pencil almost slips from Stella's fingers. She tightens her grip, refusing to upset Iota even more by letting it fall as if it were indeed something bad. Instead she puts it down just outside the case and pulls her hands under the table to hide their trembling. _Who can even think of telling children such things? _burns like a wildfire through her thoughts.

"Her hair" Iota points at her drawing, "is this color." looking at the black pencil, then at Stella with eyes almost the same color, so wide are her pupils with horror, "Is the Devil in there too?"

Stella clasps Iota's hand in her hands, "No, no it's not. And it will not get you." The words come out in a heat of emotion and they sound miserable to her, thinking that a devil has been in this child's life. _I won't let him get you, not again._

After a while Iota picks up the next color and begins drawing a heart on her mother's green pullover. She pauses for another moment and looks at Stella. The pencil hits the paper again, starts drawing red lines from the heart, meandering their way over the paper until they form a puddle of blood around the body.

Stella feels ice rushing through her, almost stopping her heart. She remembers the clothes from the crime scene, remembers the shape the blood drew on the floor. _She has seen it. _Stella snatches Iota into her arms, holds on tight to that little figure, together they shiver, bodies trying to shake off the souls' pain. A dash of red sails through the air and hits the ground.


	10. say goodbye

**I loved all the reviews I had so far, they made me so happy; please continue to let me know what you think, or start here. I always like to hear from my readers. I also hope that those who have this on alert enjoy it.**

Sid stands still, not exactly patiently but if he's learned one thing about machines it's that they don't speed up just because you're waiting for them. Finally the elevator doors open. He sees Stella inside, wants to greet her but his voice dies, stabbed by the expression on her face and dragged away by her gaze that is losing itself in an infinite distance. Time seems to freeze, but the metal doors begin to close again, without Stella moving out of the cabin's cage.

He steps in, breaks the door's movement. They hesitate, reverse and try again, close behind him with a strangely lifeless sigh. Sid and Stella stand face to face in the achromatic confinement. Slowly Stella begins to focus, becoming aware of his presence. She casts him a glance to which he has only one reply. He pulls her into his arms, she allows herself to lean into him for a couple of breaths.

"What happened?" she hears kindness through the harsh rasping of his voice.

She tells him of Iota's drawing. For a moment his embrace tightens, then he pulls back and looks at her, directing her eyes to his, wanting to say something.

The elevator has started moving again, whereto they are unaware of. The doors open on Flack, whose hands, having torn at something, whip behind his back on seeing that the cabin is occupied. He looks from Sid to Stella, his hands return from their hiding place.

"I think you need this more right now." he says, holding out a bar of chocolate to Stella.

--

She glides into his office like a shadow. Mac looks up, feeling her presence in spite of her silence. He hesitates to speak; a glance at the empty chair in front of her invites her to sit down. She doesn't, only comes up close to him, steadies herself with her hands on his chest. He holds her with his eyes.

"What happened?" the same question, the same kindness.

The same words in reply, followed by the same silence, a silence filled with thoughts.

"Have you found any more leads yet?" Stella is the first to speak again.

"Nothing new, I'm afraid." wishing he had better news for her, a glimmer of hope. "I wonder if we're missing something, maybe looking too hard in one direction."

She shakes her head vehemently, "You are too professional to be biased … even over me." The shadow of a smile flits over her lips. "You all do your jobs very well." She sinks into silence again, hoping that the criminal did not do his job so very well.

--

Wisps of clouds crowd the sky. The sun seems to hesitate to finger through them. Stella kneels down to be closer to Iota, ignores the pricking of edgy little stones into her knees and shins. Their cheeks touch as their looks are drawn into the brown abyss before them. Stella feels Mac's hand on her shoulder although he's standing several feet away. She feels numerous glances brushing over her, cast by members of Iota's family and members of her team. She can't look up to meet any of their eyes.

The service begins. The small figure beside Stella doesn't stir, unable to comprehend any of the words washing over her, lost in only one thought: what does this mean? Stella tries to follow the words. She thinks she should listen and remember them for Iota, but the words refuse to form complete sentences and she's losing herself in her own memories. Trying to evoke pictures of her family she fails, seeing only Mac, Sid and the rest of the team. She wonders if Iota will be able to remember her parents, fervently hoping she'll be able to recall images of them while they were alive.

Mac has a watchful eye on all the people who have gathered. It is a big family, but he takes his time to study every expression on their faces. One of them could be the one who has abused Iota. One of them could be the murderer of her parents. All of them are wrapped up in their individual levels of grief, expressing itself differently. Some stand in silence, oblivious to the person next to them, some huddle together, some shift their weight and their glances incessantly. He sees Mr. Lakis standing in the front center, unable to turn his eyes away from Iota and Stella his features have sagged into blankness.

A little further away, separated from the group, stands Stuart Miller, equally gazing at the two, his expression though seems to speak of anger and frustration. Mac gratefully acknowledges Flack's presence, whose long-limbed figure is hovering to the right of Miller. He almost smiles at Sid, who's frowning on the other side of that man, but himself another one who can't stop looking at Stella. Mac knows Hawkes, Danny and Lindsay are somewhere to his left, enough eyes, he believes, to see and judge.

When Stella becomes aware of the silence and even more eyes looking at her she gets up, takes the little basket they have brought along in one hand and Iota's hand in the other. They approach the dark gaping hole, Iota's little hand reaches into the basket, lets its content fall into the grave. Not a single flower slicing through the air, but hundreds of petals like lingering thoughts. They glide down, riding on the breeze like snowflakes, driven into little heaps on the coffins, slowly covering the wooden caskets as if to prepare them for a coming spring. Snowflakes trying to lighten up the somber ground, snowflakes as individual and as fragile as humans. Two of them pull away before their memories are crushed by that final thud of brown earth.

--

Iota shrinks into the seat as they approach the childcare center. She turns to Stella with a quivering voice, "Do I have to stay here forever?"

Instinctively Stella's eyes jump to Mac for comfort as she pulls Iota closer. "No, no, you don't." she whispers. _I won't let that happen, and if I do have to give up my job to prevent it._

Together they enter the building, Stella holding on to Iota and guiding her through the hall. She leans over to Mac, about to whisper something to him, but he cuts her short with a nod, he has already guessed her thoughts. 'I will tell her.' is what that nod said. He is left behind with Nurse Alexander and a pang of guilt at the feeling that he has just lost Stella.

--

Stella looks around her apartment, thinks about where to put what, thinks about what things she will need to accommodate Iota. Her heart surges up in her throat again. She has to pause for a moment. They have talked about this, she knows it's the right thing to do, but she wonders if she will be able to do it right. She makes a list, tries to remember things she liked as a child, tries to remember what she turned to for comfort.

She walks out onto the street and into the sunshine, desperate for a breeze and unwilling to use her car for a little errand. Thoughts are bouncing through her mind, jump ahead of her. "Ms Bonasera?" a male voice she doesn't recognize causes her to stop dead in her tracks, then whirl around towards where it came from and come to an unsteady halt at the sight of its source.


	11. the difference

**I loved all the reviews I had so far, they made me so happy; thank you so much for taking the time to write them. Please continue to let me know what you think, or start here, all comments are welcome. Thanks also if you have this on alert, and I hope all of you continue to enjoy it.**

**A/N: It seems to be song time; the ones popping up in the second scene are by: Sainte Marie Buffy (lyrics), Ultravox, an American folksong (best version by Louis Armstrong, I think) and the Pretenders. No idea who the lullaby in the last section belongs to, probably traditional too.**

"Oh." is all that Sid can think of saying for a moment and he looks around the corridor that suddenly seems empty to him. "Do you think she …?"

He's interrupted by the urgent tone of Mac's cell. Sid recognizes Flack's voice, but he can't understand the words.

"Yes?" – pause – "You found something?" – pause – "Where?" – pause – "Okay, I'm on my way."

The cell snaps shut with a dull clap. What is the sound of one hand clapping? The sound of loneliness maybe?

He looks up, thinking that there had been a question he was supposed to answer. But the ME has crept away, taking along his own thoughts. And he's glad of it, glad of not having to voice hopes that might then be crushed or fears that might then become true.

--

Sid works on another body. New cases don't wait for old ones to be solved. But certain old cases and new developments don't exactly make it easy to concentrate. He falls back to humming to control his thoughts. He stops when he recognizes the song. 'Until it's time for you to go'? No, not a good choice. He files through his repertoire, starts another one. He hits the refrain, 'Dancing with tears in my eyes', now that's even worse. He kicks the table before his mind can even think of breaking into the 'St. James Infirmary Blues'. Not that it wouldn't be appropriate, in a way.

He jumps at the first person who enters the morgue. "What kind of music do you listen to?"

"What?" Hawkes is taken completely by surprise.

"I asked what kind of music …" Sid starts again.

"I heard you the first time, I just couldn't believe it."

"Well then, are you going to answer me?"

Hawkes begins to wish he had sent somebody else down to the morgue. "Well, what do you want to hear?"

"Anything that will stick and is not depressing."

"Hm, how about 'Back on the chain gang'?" Hawkes watches Sid muse over it.

"I'm not sure I remember that, can you sing it for me?"

Hawkes is sure he should have sent anybody else down. "No way! Can we please just get to what I came here for?"

--

Flack comes across Adam, standing in the corridor with a print-out in his hands, frowning.

"Boy, why do you look so depressed?" Flack says by way of greeting.

"Maybe because I am depressed? You wouldn't happen to have any more of that chocolate?"

"Sorry, but no. Really!" He continues when Adam shows his believe, nodding. "Tell me, what's the matter. I heard, sometimes that helps too."

Adam smirks almost in spite of himself. "I finally found out about that smudge."

"And what's depressing about that?" Flack wonders.

"It's not related to the case. It doesn't get us even an inch further; it simply tells us that he worked in the garden. He wanted to build some kind of a wall out of old newspapers."

"That tells you something about his life then. Isn't it nice to find out something about that for a change?" Flack says after some thought.

--

There is a silence while she studies the man's features for a hint at the meaning he is searching words for to convey.

The voice reaches out again, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

She acknowledges that with a nod. "How did you know where to find me?"

"When I talked to your colleague he mentioned that you … that Iota …" he pauses, gathering his composure, "I asked the receptionist for your name and address when I heard that you had been injured, I wanted to send a card, but when I saw you at the funeral …" he breaks off again.

"If you have some time maybe we could have a coffee." she suggests after seeing that it takes more for him to be able to continue.

He nods, then suddenly falters, "I'm so sorry, I haven't even introduced myself …"

"That's okay." she interrupts him, "You are Iota's uncle, Mr. Lakis, right?"

"Yes. But please, call me Hector."

"Stella, then." she offers her hand.

He takes it and holds it for a moment, drawing strength from her. She leads the way to a small café down the street. In the afternoon bustle of people enjoying the early spring sunshine their emotions find a hiding place.

They sit in silence. He looks into the black depths of his coffee, she's watching him. Somehow his large frame manages to cower on the chair and almost disappear into the shade of the corner.

"I can't even begin to tell you how grateful I am for what you have done for Iota." He finally looks in her direction, but his eyes are still somewhere else.

"I'm very glad I could help her a little bit." Stella replies truthfully, and wonders for the hundredth time why the little girl has built up such a connection with her.

"Do you know yet what happened?" he asks after having taken a few sips of the hot liquid before him.

She shakes her head, what ever they have found out yet, she feels it's not the right moment to tell him. She searches his eyes. "Please, tell me something about them, what were they like?"

He sighs, hiding behind his coffee cup for a moment. "Frank, he was a nice guy. I must admit I liked him more than Stuart. He loved gardening – but he never forbid Iota to play in the garden. If she broke something, well, it was just an accident. I'm sure he loved her like his own. And Marina …" he returns to the safety of the coffee cup again.

Stella sees him trying to steady his hands by holding it in a firm grasp; his eyes seem to study every atom of it individually. But she's sure that talking will eventually do him good. And she waits for him to be ready. Suddenly he looks at her again, much closer than he had before, and something gleams in his eyes.

When he starts speaking again he uses his mother tongue. "Marina loved cooking, but don't we all?" he tells her in Greek. "And she loved Iota, more than anything in the world. I can't believe she would ever let anything happen to her, I can't believe she let …"

Stella interrupts him gently, "I'm sure Marina did everything she could to protect Iota."

He nods, almost too quickly. He wants to believe her. He seeks refuge in the coffee again and she joins him. They order another cup.

He speaks again, unable to meet Stella's eyes, "Iota was always very quiet and serious. I should have looked closer. I should have …"

With a touch of her hand Stella tenderly leads him away from those thoughts.

He holds on to her, "Iota is a wonderful girl. She is always so careful and considerate, at such an age …" he draws back from where his thoughts are leading him. He switches back into English. "Do you know that lullaby with the mockingbird?"

Stella nods. He doesn't continue. His fingers run around the rim of the coffee cup, around and around. He looks up again, looks straight into Stella's eyes. She sees care in them, and sadness.

"She always hated that song. She didn't want her mother to have to buy all those things just because the other ones wouldn't work properly. She is a lovely girl, she is!" Finally the tears come.


	12. a last round

**Finally, another update to this story. ****Thanks for the patience. A special thanks to **_**lily moonlight**_** for encouraging me to go on with it. This is very different from Ticking so it wasn't easy to come back. Also real life got in the way, thanks to anyone who sent me get-well-wishes!**

"Hey Flack. Good to see you! Got something for you." Stella reaches into her bag.

Flack eyes the little package she's holding out to him suspiciously. "What's that?"

"You'll have to open it to find out." she replies, eyes sparkling.

"I'm not going to accept that as a goodbye present." he says, still hesitating to take the wrapped offer.

"Good, because I have no intention of leaving." adding after a moment's consideration, "At least not for long. Plus, I didn't get anything for the others. Now take it." With the last words she thrusts the package into his hands.

Her pixie smile does not really calm him, but he realizes that Stella-out-of-patience can only be worse than anything she could think of to tease him with. He feels the paper carefully. He slides on his stone mask, repeats his question, slightly rephrased, "What is it?"

She crosses her arms in front of her chest, puts on a face of her own, "Open it!"

He should have known that his interrogation tactics wouldn't stand a chance against her. A chuckle breaks through her mask, "Go on, it won't bite, promise."

Cautiously he tugs at the paper, pulling a corner loose, wraps it around and around to reveal – a toothbrush and toothpaste. He stares at what he's holding in his hands.

"I wanted to get something for Iota and when I saw this I just couldn't resist getting it for you." Stella explains, interrupting herself with giggles.

Flack turns the toothpaste in his hand to read what it says on the side of the tube. Chocolate flavor. No, not really, just chocolate. It is chocolate paste. His lips curl into a smile, a mixture of relief, feeling caught, and delight.

"Thanks, that's sweet."

"Well, it should be, it's chocolate." she grins at him. Then she pulls him into a quick and friendly hug. "Keep in touch, okay?"

"Of course. I will." he promises.

--

Adam is sneaking along the wall, absorbed in the print-outs he's looking at. Stella steps out of his way. The motion alerts him. He looks at her.

"Hey." He'd like to say more but he's not sure what, or how to phrase it.

She saves him from an awkward silence creeping closer. "What are you working on?"

"Still the Carsons'. Hawkes found a tiny bit of fiber in the gun. I analyzed it." He holds one of the print-outs out to her. "See. It's from a pair of gloves, black, artificial leather. Unfortunately a very common brand, I'm guessing close to ten thousand New Yorkers have them, probably including Michael Bloom, so …"

"Still, that's something." she interrupts him, "I'm sure not all of them have a gun, or otherwise fit the profile we're establishing. And eventually fewer and fewer will be part of the intersection of the sets of characteristics we are looking at."

"I know. I won't give up." he says with a determination that she had not quite expected.

Suddenly she remembers a glimpse into his past. "Thanks." she says quietly. There is nothing else to say. He nods, understanding, but unable to say thank you himself. He doesn't have to; she sees it in his eyes.

--

Stella is not surprised to see Lindsay and Danny in a layout room, heads and hands almost touching as they bend over their work. Looking up together as she enters. She smiles at them. Lindsay blushes a bit but her words make Stella think it's not because she has seen them so close together, almost intimate.

"Sorry. Working on another case already." Lindsay says apologetically.

"That's okay, really." True, she is disappointed that not all hands can work on solving the case that may decide Iota's future and possibly hers with it, but that certainly isn't Lindsay's fault. _Only the fault of those bloody criminals_, she thinks, not without feeling some anger and frustration.

"So, heard you're leaving." Danny says, apparently untouched by it.

Both Lindsay and Stella raise an eyebrow at him. Stella speaks, "Don't worry; you don't have to try and hide how glad you are to escape my keeping an eye on you!"

Danny shoves his glasses further up his nose, "I'm not …" he takes a breath, trying to think of what to say, not exactly easy with two pairs of eyes piercing through him. "I'll actually miss that." he hopes to have come up with a solution and is relieved to see Stella snicker.

"So, yeah, I'm leaving, kind of …" To voice that makes Stella feel lost for a moment. She shakes her head, she'll be back. Still, her next words sound unusually dejected. "Just wanted to say goodbye … so, bye!" The awkward sound of the phrase draws a smile onto her face.

"Bye!" her opposites say as one. Lindsay wants to hug Stella but she thinks that this is not like her going back to Montana, so she refrains from it, sliding her arm around Danny's waist and pulling him closer instead.

Stella leaves with a smile.

--

Through the glass walls Stella sees Hawkes in Mac's office as she approaches. She knocks softly on the cold material, welcomed in warmly.

"Hey, any news on the Carsons' case?" she looks from one to the other, hoping for an affirmative.

They, too, look at each other. Mac signals to Hawkes to speak first, having officially put him in charge of that case. "Well," Hawkes clears his throat, "Flack might have found a clue. Apparently there was a witness to the break-in into Michael Bloom's shed. She didn't bother to call 911 though thinking it was just a prank as the burglar dropped something in a bush just down the street and the witness thought it was whatever he had taken. Turns out the 'something' was a pair of gloves, we're having them tested for DNA now. We also got a very sketchy Identikit."

A little sigh escapes Stella. It's a small step but it's something. Seeing Hawkes getting ready to leave adds to her melancholy. He pulls her into a hug.

"Take care. And let us know how you're doing."

She nods, "I will." She follows him out the door with her eyes, not quite able to look at Mac yet. Eventually she turns around. "This is getting ridiculous, I feel like I'm about to leave this planet." but her laugh is halfhearted. And she sees Mac isn't too happy either.

"It would be nicer if we could meet, but for the moment we'll have to make do with phone calls." Mac's smile resembles her laugh. "What was your impression of Hector Lakis?" he tries to get back to business.

She withdraws into her memories for a moment. "We know he didn't shoot the Carsons because he couldn't have been there. And I'm certain that he has nothing to do with what happened to Iota. He would be an extremely good actor, I think, if he did. The only problem is even if we prove that it wasn't him, will Iota be able to live with him or any other male member of the family?"

Mac hesitates, not knowing himself what the answer will be. But Stella can't wait, with two quick steps she's right in front of him, wraps her arms around him. "I'll be back, promise! And thanks for everything."

He pulls her closer, "I'll be waiting. And I have to thank you, I didn't do anything."

"Well, then, neither did I." she pulls away to be able to wink at him.

He watches her walk through the door, all the way to the elevator where she turns as she waits, waving at him before she gets in.

--

She's striding towards the morgue, pushing the doors open, seeing only an assistant ME in the large room.

"No idea, in his office maybe." he replies rather casually to her question where Sid is.

She walks on to the indicated office, peeks in. She doesn't see Sid, but his chair is turned, so maybe he's just hidden from her view. She knocks on the door, harder the second time, still no reaction. She thinks she sees a bit of the sleeve of his shirt on the armrest. Pushing the door ajar she calls his name, no movement, but she sees he is sitting in his chair.

She rushes into the room, "Sid!"


	13. the beginning of circles

**Thank****s for the warm welcome back :). Thanks for reviewing or putting this on alert, new faces are always welcome! A special thanks to **_**lily moonlight**_** for letting me use the name she's thought of for Sid's wife.**

"Adam?"

Adam almost rockets through the ceiling despite the calm of the voice addressing him from behind. He releases the energy by spinning around and turning a glowing red.

"Hawkes." He tries to think of something else to say, something less obvious, but he's still tangled in his thoughts.

"About the DNA from the gloves …" Hawkes says.

"I'm working on it." Adam hastens to state, blushing again both from having interrupted Hawkes and from feeling too slow.

Hawkes' hands move up into the air in a soothing manner. "Don't worry! I know it takes as long as it takes."

"Yeah, though I wish we could be faster …" Adam reflects, adding a thought that was not really meant to be voiced, "Before the crime would be cool."

Hawkes' eyebrows go up a hair's breadth. "Do you think our actions are determined by our DNA?"

Adam shakes his head vehemently, "That's not what I meant. I meant, eh, well … I …" He falls silent, trying to order his thoughts, but the lines wriggling over his face speak volumes.

Hawkes watches him with growing amusement, and decides to relieve him. "For the time being we seem to have to content ourselves with finding out after the crime. Just let me know as soon as you have a result, okay?"

--

She whirls herself around the desk, stumbles back with a gasp. After a moment of staring and holding breaths the silence is broken.

"Do you want to give me a heart attack?" Sid hollers, much louder than necessary.

It takes him a couple of breaths until the shock on Stella's face registers with him and he realizes that he may be the cause for it. She's only able to shake her head, trembling with relieved tension.

"Sorry." Still too loud.

He sees her lips move, then her head shaking again.

"Oh." comes another explosion from his lips until he finally pulls at the strings snaking into his ears.

She's ready to laugh at it now. "Sid, _what_ are you doing?"

"I wanted to increase my repertoire for a little distraction."

Her eyebrows do a little dance.

"Somehow my thoughts started to influence the choice of songs I was humming." he explains, "I thought I could reverse that if I actually listened to music. But I still wanted to be able to choose, and I've been told these little things here" he holds up the mp3-player attached to the strings, "are perfect for that."

"Where did you get it?" she can't help but ask.

"Actually, I asked my daughters. The older was adamant that she couldn't live without it …"

"So," she grins, "whose did you get?"

He grins back, then a thought strikes him. "She'll probably seize her sister's instead. Oh well, I'll give it back tonight. But I think I should have a talk with her about the kind of music she's listening to." He eyes the little machine suspiciously.

Stella glances at the display, picks up one of the earphones and listens to the music still playing. "Doesn't sound too bad, I think. I can see though you'd rather have something else on there. And if you use it while around others you might want to consider using just one earphone." The words are spoken with a growing smile.

The smile Sid returns is somewhat clouded as he realizes why she has come.

"I …, I'm not sure I had much to do with raising my girls, but …, well, if you need any help you can call us. I'm pretty sure Martha remembers the times when the two were Iota's age very clearly. So, if you need any advice …, or just call me anyway, let us know how you're doing."

Her eyes don't move away from his as she nods.

"Take care." he whispers into her curls.

"You too." she whispers back, nodding again.

--

Danny watches Lindsay who's circling the lab, round the tables, along shelves, past the door. Chewing on her lips, waiting for results, any sign of progress.

"Linds…" He doesn't get any further.

"There's got to be something we can do!" she bursts out.

He tries to pull her closer as she passes him, but she wriggles away.

"Look, if there were anything else we could do right now they would tell us."

Not the right choice of words, he can tell by the way she glares at him. He watches her do another round.

"Come on, Lindsay, come here!" This time he succeeds in catching her, pulling her onto his lap.

The chair spins around.

"As soon as there is something" he continues, "we'll be back at it, you know that." She nods. "In the meantime, Stella does her best for Iota. She'll be fine. And at least you can meet her."

She nods again, looking relieved; and a bit embarrassed because she's making such a fuss.

Danny speaks again, "You could probably even do some babysitting, so Mac can meet her too."

"Good idea." she smiles.

--

Stella answers her cell after the first ring.

"Hey, how's it going?"

"Mac, we only got here five minutes ago." Amusement shines through her words.

"Oh." Silence, eventually, a bit sheepishly, "It seemed longer to me."

"Likely, I was gone longer. Got held up … you know the traffic – and Sid." He hears her chuckle.

"What'd he do?" He can practically see her grin as she tells him.

He enjoys listening to her, glad her voice sounds so lively again. After a few more words they finish the call. She looks down at Iota who looks back with so much more understanding than a child of her age should have need of. Stella takes the girl's hand, leads her around the apartment.

--

_It takes as long as it takes._

Adam looks at his watch again, one more hour, and nothing to do but wait. The gloves have been matched to the fiber seemingly long ago, but DNA is a bit more complicated.

Just a bit. He looks down at his fingers, their length, and the shape of his nails, determined by his DNA. 67 percent of which he has in common with a cock. He smiles at the thought. What makes one's genetic fingerprint so unique are mainly unused bits and pieces, leftovers of evolution that have nothing to do with what one looks like, much less with how one behaves.

The choices you make. He can not believe that all one's choices are determined by DNA, not even in combination with the surroundings one grew up in. He thinks that way back when even he had a choice, to either endure or break. And now Iota, his thoughts freeze at the possibility that they might not be able to punish who did this to her because that someone could claim to be a victim of his genes and upbringing. No, he's sure that the freedom of choice exists, he has to believe it.

He checks his watch again, still half an hour. He decides to have another coffee, or maybe hot chocolate would be a better idea. Another choice, though a very different one. And is it also a choice that he decides to let his reasoning influence him? He realizes he's getting tangled up in his thoughts.

_Well, apparently I don't always get to choose what I think._

The sigh and smile of sarcasm turn into ones of relief when he finally hears the printer buzz to work. His hand is waiting in the air to receive the print-out. His eyes scan over it. Squinting, something strikes him.

"Oh crap!"


	14. spiraling

**Thanks again for the lovely reviews and for putting this on alert. I'm so pleasantly surprised by how many people are following this. Feel free to add a name to the number :).**

Adam blinks at the paper he's holding as if that could cause the information to change; the Cs, Ts, As, and Gs to trade places and spell out something different. His hand is reaching out for the keyboard without looking. Hitting a series of keys to pull up information he has also stored in his head. But he wants to make sure, he has to make sure. His eyes swing from the paper to the screen. Nothing changes.

He thinks of double-checking, though he's sure that he didn't make any mistakes. And what are the chances of making a mistake and getting _that_ result, anyway? Still, he's picking out another tiny fragment from the bits of skin cells they had found shed in the gloves, and prepares it for another test.

His concentration is at 100 percent, making sure that _if_ he made a mistake he will not repeat it, and grateful for being able to keep his thoughts off the conclusions to be drawn from the result. What to tell Hawkes? And when? He had promised to tell him right away. And he's hoping for a second opinion. He's dialing the number.

--

Hawkes approaches a place that never seems to fall dark, occupied by a man who has dedicated his life to fighting the darkness in this city, thus sleeping as little as the city does. He doesn't have to knock; Mac has seen him already and waves him in.

"You've got news?"

"Yeah …" Hawkes hesitates for a moment, knowing that Mac isn't going to like what he has to say.

Mac eyes him expectantly, knowing that if Hawkes hesitates the news isn't going to be good, but he wants to know anyway.

"Adam has started another series of tests, and we need a DNA sample for confirmation …" Hawkes continues to beat about the bush.

"Hawkes." Mac pushes, stretching the 'a'. "What's your point?" Not without sympathy though.

"The DNA from inside the gloves belongs to a relative of Marina Carson. The similarities leave only one conclusion: her brother."

"Hector Lakis." Mac voices, carefully considering the implications, "Bring him in first thing tomorrow, see what he has to say, and get that sample. Adam should check the gloves meticulously, in case there is any other DNA."

"He's already on it." Adding with a small grin, "If the gloves were real leather he'd find you the cow that gave its hide for them."

For a moment the smile infects Mac. Yes, Adam is thorough and full of zeal, and he's glad to have him on the team. Especially now. He wonders if he should pass the news on to Stella. It would give him a reason to call her.

--

Gingerly Stella sneaks her cell from her pocket as vibrations announce a call – or a message. 'Call me?' she reads off the illuminated screen, setting off the letters against the various shades of grey surrounding her. She smiles, gently maneuvering her arm from under Iota's neck. The girl stirs a little but thankfully doesn't wake. Stella watches for a few moments, the little chest moving up and down, a little hand twitching in a dream. She withdraws, her heart both heavy and light.

"Sorry about that, I'll call you back. I just didn't want to wake Iota …" he blurts before she can say as much as 'hello'.

"Mac …, Mac." she interrupts him gently, "It's okay, don't worry. That was very considerate of you." Adding with a tender smile, "You don't have to whisper."

He's unable to slip out of it yet. "How's it going?"

Unable to separate the pain of having seen what Iota had gone through from the relief that the worst is over and the girl is able to sleep, Stella decides to recount the facts. She relishes the warmth of Mac's voice though it's distorted a bit by her cell's reception and his replies are monosyllabic, not wishing to intrude into the flow of her words.

"So, any news on the case?" she changes the topic.

He hesitates. He doesn't really want to tell her what they have found out.

"Mac? You still there?"

"Hm. Yes and no." His voice becomes less than a whisper as he's running through his thoughts.

"Meaning?" Stella nudges him verbally.

"There is something new but …" he stops again.

"Mac." she's slightly stretching the 'a'.

"I … hm, this doesn't really make any sense yet. I'll tell you as soon as we know more, okay?" he's evasive.

She hesitates, knowing exactly that there is something he doesn't want to tell her. "Okay."

No point in insisting anyway. When Mac chooses to he can be as stubborn as Stella herself. And officially she's off the case; off any case, on personal leave. She sighs.

"I'm sorry." he whispers, having heard her sigh. "I just don't want to get your hopes up." _Or your worries,_ he adds in his thoughts.

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

After moments of silence, "Mac? Thanks for calling. I …"

More silence before he encourages her to continue, "You … what?"

'I miss you.' she had wanted to say. "I'm glad we're staying in touch." she says.

"So am I." He smiles genuinely. "By the way, Lindsay has offered to baby-sit, so maybe we could have a coffee some day."

"That would be lovely." He hears honest joy in her voice.

"Sleep well."

"And you. Sleep at all, that is." Her voice is tinged with a grin.

--

Hawkes looks at the man sitting on the edge of a chair that seems too small for him, head resting equally uneasily and desolately on his hands. He looks at the two who will be watching through the one-way mirror. Adam's eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep, signs of fatigue less obvious on Mac's face because they have settled and made home there years ago. They nod at each other. No use in delaying this.

"Mr. Lakis, do you know why we asked you to come here?" Hawkes opens the conversation.

He wants it to be a conversation, not an interrogation. He hopes for an explanation. But evidence doesn't lie. He sticks with the facts, he follows the procedure. Nobody says he has to be happy about it.

"You found my DNA in some gloves, I think? I don't understand … what gloves? What does it have to do with the murder of my sister … and my brother in law? What about Iota? Is she okay?" His voice becomes increasingly urgent and dejected.

Hawkes silently grits his teeth before he explains what he can.

"Are you saying you think I shot my own sister?" Mr. Lakis looks at the man opposite him in blank horror.

"No. We know you couldn't have. Your alibi has been confirmed. But you could still have been involved."

Adam hadn't thought the look of pain on the Greek man's face could increase. Somehow he feels that this man is also on the receiving side of abuse. But feelings are irrelevant here, he tells himself, they only serve to drive you on, to keep you going.

"Maybe you just wanted to teach them a lesson because of what you thought they did to Iota. But it got out of hand." Hawkes continues.

Mr. Lakis stares at him for a long time before he's able to shake his head, longer still before he is able to speak. Only one word before his voice fails again. "No."

"Can you tell us how your DNA got on these gloves?" Hawkes shoves the evidence in question a little closer to his opposite.

Mr. Lakis shakes his head again, forehead in a frown not only because he's scrutinizing the gloves.

Finally words come out slowly and quietly, "I didn't know what had happened to Iota. As I told St… your colleague Ms Bonasera, I wish I had noticed …"

The slip doesn't escape Hawkes' attention – but what does it hide?


	15. horse in a mill

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, made this or me a favorite or has this or me on alert. If you are slightly puzzled by where I am in this chapter, you might want to go back one**** and check, there seems to have been a bit of a mess with the alerts lately :)**

Adam rubs his eyes, knowing full well that will only make them sting more.

"Can we hold him with what we've got?" he asks Mac.

Mac doesn't look away from the one-way mirror. He has been mulling the same question since before the interrogation started. Something about this doesn't make sense.

"If he can't come up with an explanation for why his DNA was in the gloves …" he shakes his head, "No, not really."

He's not even sure he wants to, either. He tells himself that he's not partial, that it's because there is reasonable doubt. There had been a case, after all, in which the right DNA had led the wrong way. He would love to discuss this with Stella. He could have, but he had decided against telling her. He wonders if that was a good idea.

"The Identikit we have is so very sketchy, it could be him. But why should he have thrown away the gloves?" Just one of many questions.

Adam shrugs. He wishes he had an idea.

"Are you sure that it's only his DNA that was found in the gloves?" Mac sees the young man rubbing his eyes again.

"Pretty much so. The tests aren't quite complete yet but I can see where they are going." Adam tries to stifle a yawn.

Mac nods, "Was there any other trace found in or on the gloves? Something that might show how a transfer of DNA was avoided?"

Adam forces his eyes wide open. "I'll check." he hastens to say.

"Danny and Lindsay can do that as soon as they come in. You go home and get some sleep!" Mac says with a small smile.

It reflects on Adam's relieved face. "And you!" The words are out before he can think about them. Equally fast he turns a glowing red at the realization of what he has just said, and to whom.

Mac turns towards the one-way mirror again, pretending not to have heard or seen anything. But in his eyes the small smile continues to flicker for a moment. Not only because it had sounded so much like Stella.

--

Hawkes leans back in his chair, not wanting to give Mr. Lakis the feeling that he's under pressure. There could be a simple explanation, after all. If anything about this case can be considered simple, and not just with all the emotions that are involved.

"Mr. Lakis," he eventually interrupts his opposites musing, "can you tell me _anything _about these gloves."

He points to the evidence bag the other man is still turning and turning in his hands. He sees that Mr. Lakis seems to be focusing on the gloves again. He waits.

Finally the Greek man looks at him. "I have such gloves." He spreads one hand over the evidence bag, realizing, "They could be mine. I must have left them at Marina's house when I helped them move. It had been quite cold that morning. But that's not where you found them, is it?"

It takes him a moment to remember what Hawkes had told him before. No, that was not where the gloves had been found. He shudders.

Hawkes frowns. "Do you remember where exactly you left them?" wondering if someone else could have picked them up.

The man pales. "No." His face disappears behind his hands. "It could even have been outside. Anybody could have taken them." he answers Hawkes' unvoiced question. He emerges from between his hands, "But why would anybody take a pair of gloves?"

Another question not only the one asking it wants an answer to. Mac rubs the back of his neck. No doubt everything is connected. But sometimes the connection is so damn hard to find. He tries to fit the pieces of the puzzle together, but he feels there are still too many missing.

--

Iota looks up, white foam clinging to the skin just above her upper lip. Stella smiles at her, moving her finger over the space in question on _her_ face. Iota understands and mirrors the action – but her smile doesn't last long.

Stella gets up, encouraging the little girl to follow her. They sit down again at the coffee table under which Stella has currently stored a stack of different games. The girl dives under the table and emerges with a puzzle. Stella smiles again. She had seen many puzzles in Iota's room so it was natural to assume the girl likes them. But what matters more to Stella is that Iota apparently still enjoys them.

She watches quietly as the girl empties the box into a heap of jagged pieces and then quickly sorts out the ones that make up the borders, putting all the others back in the box. A game for people who are alone, whether they want to be or not. But also a game to concentrate on and forget about other things.

Stella wonders if she should participate, or if it would be better to let Iota do it on her own. Iota seems absorbed in studying the various shapes and colors. Her hands glide over the table, pushing groups of pieces closer together. She pulls various shapes and shades of green towards herself. She looks at Stella. She looks at a little heap of blue pieces, pushes it towards Stella, looks at her again.

--

"I'm kind of losing track of this."

Danny smiles at Lindsay, "That's why we keep files on cases."

"True." she attempts to smile back, "But this one is more like a collection of what we haven't got."

"Well, then, tell me what we _haven't_ got."

With a sigh Lindsay picks up the file and scans it, "Fingerprints."

"Ooh," Danny pulls a face, "don't remind me of them!"

Now she really smiles. And he's glad of it.

"Hector Lakis was the only one who had a spare key." she continues.

The smile drops off his face. "You think he lied when he said he had it with him on the business trip?"

Lindsay shrugs. "We can't prove he did, we can't prove he didn't."

"And there's still the possibility that whoever did this didn't need a key."

Lindsay frowns at the file she's leafing through. "Isn't it odd that someone would take Mr. Lakis' gloves and use them in a robbery, and not just any but of the weapon that was then used to kill his sister?"

"Yeah. Sounds like he was involved."

"Or like he was used … or even framed."

Danny thinks they are pretty much running in circles. Before Lindsay can start doing so physically he pulls her towards himself. Waiting for results, for whatever they might bring.

--

"Hey," Mac launches into small talk as soon as Stella answers her cell, "What are you two up to?"

"We are solving a puzzle." Stella gets up and takes a few steps back from the coffee table.

"Oh." Mac feels they're slipping into the business talk he had meant to avoid. "That sounds familiar."

"Yeah." Stella smirks, making the right connection, "Only I have a feeling this one here is easier."

"Possibly, how many pieces have you got?"

"Five hundred, and Iota is really good at this," Stella says, noticing that the girl doesn't even look at the picture on the box.

"She's probably been doing this for a long time." Mac assumes.

"So have we." Stella states.

"Indeed. Trouble is, we don't only have to match the pieces, we have to find them first."

Stella sighs inwardly. She doesn't want to push him, but she wants to know if there has been any progress made.

"Have you … found any new pieces?"

It's Mac's turn to sigh inwardly. He decides to take a leap. "Danny and Lindsay are working on something."

Lindsay and Danny back on 'her' case, Stella chooses to take that as a good sign. She doesn't probe further. She moves back to the table and sits down again, moving pieces about while talking to Mac, finding two that fit.


	16. days go by

**Thanks to all those who have reviewed the l****ast chapter. I'm terribly sorry I've kept you waiting for an update so long, my muses went on strike, and my confidence too. Reviews tend to keep them in check, so please don't hesitate to let me know what you think.**

**Many thanks to **_**Blue Shadowdancer**_** for the encouragement on this and my writing in general, and to **_**lily moonlight**_** for the nudges.**

With a sigh Mac puts another form into the Carsons' folder. Danny and Lindsay have found nothing else in the gloves. Not the faintest trace of anything to lead them anywhere. He wonders what he had been hoping for. That there would be something to prove that Mr. Lakis had been framed? He thinks of Stella. Her impression of the man had been good, and usually she's right. But she knows as well as him that they have to go on what they can prove.

He leaves the room, but his thoughts linger on the subject. Once they have figured out who murdered the Carsons they still have to deal with what happened to Iota. And how can they possibly find trace in that case? He can only hope that Stella will come across clues while she's taking care of the girl. As happy as he is for the two of them apparently finding comfort in each other, he wonders how long it will take. How long until Stella can come back to the lab?

Lindsay hasn't had time yet to do some babysitting, at least not when he would also have had time to meet Stella. Sure they talk on the phone a lot, but he still misses her presence. He misses the feeling of coming home when he sees her. He stops at that thought. There's no doubt that he loves Stella, as a friend. But could there be more? Could they live together, could they be a family, maybe even together with Iota? He remembers the girl's initial reaction to him. There is a chance that, given time, she won't mind his presence.

"What are you thinking of?" his steps and thoughts are halted by a familiar voice.

Mac would never blush, but Hawkes could have sworn that a sign of embarrassment had just passed over the other man's face. He decides to quickly change the subject. Pointing at the folder Mac is still carrying around, "You know that Mr. Lakis had a weapon and bullets of the same make as were used in the attack." Mac nods although it wasn't a question. "He's handed them in …"

"So, we have three guns, possibly two attackers," Mac interjects.

"One gun that has been fired," Hawkes continues.

"And zero evidence who pulled the trigger." Mac concludes. "… Nice countdown." he smirks without humor.

"Yeah." Hawkes agrees, "I'll have a good look at that gun, all of them … and everything else again, believe me."

"I know that." Mac assures him.

The case is getting to all of them. He thinks that most people assume Hawkes is calm about this because he looks it. But they don't know him. They don't know it shows in his eyes, glowing like petrified petroleum now.

"Let Danny and Lindsay have another look too," Mac carries on, "and anybody else who happens to be free …, there might be something we don't see because we've come too close."

Hawkes nods although he can't imagine Mac not being able to see the big picture.

--

"Didn't Mac tell you to go home and get some sleep?"

Adam jumps a little in reaction to Sid's question, wondering how the ME knows of that conversation but not really wanting to go deeper into that matter. "Eh, yes … but that … that was two days ago, and I did go home and …" his voice fades.

"Then why do you still look so tired?" Sid asks.

"Well, I tried to sleep, I think I did, but I just couldn't really." Adam shrugs.

Sid looks at the young lab tech. He sees that Adam has become more involved than usual and he's sure it's not just because of Stella's connection to the case. He thinks of his own feelings once he had realized what had happened to Iota. He had gone home and hugged his wife, and his daughters, and he had talked to them. It had been a long night.

Adam too had a place to go home to of course, but was it a place where he could find comfort, distraction from his work? Did he have someone to talk to? Someone to talk to about the things that bothered him at work, or someone to laugh with about things that were completely unrelated?

"I was on my way to the break room to have a cup of coffee, want to tag along?" Sid invites the young man, adding with a smile, "You know what they say about the effects of caffeine on your brain functions."

Adam manages a little smile, of course he knows that. It dawns on him that Sid must be frustrated by a rather large number of cases, and especially this one. Once he's done examining the bodies there's nothing he can do to help them solve a case. Nothing but add his thoughts.

"Sounds good to me." And Adam follows the long strides of the ME towards the break room, thinking that even if an exchange with the older man doesn't lead to a break in the case it might help clear their minds.

--

Stella watches Iota play a game of solitaire. Another one of those games you play alone, although Hector Lakis had mentioned when he brought her the cards – meeting her at the front door of her apartment building – that Iota had always played together with her mother. Sitting opposite each other they had spent hours in silence, nothing heard but the sound of shifting cards. An exercise in patience, and possibly endurance.

Stella had put the cards with the other games, not wanting to place a possible reminder openly. But it hadn't taken long and Iota had pulled them out and with a quiet seriousness begun to teach Stella the games she had learned from her mother. And now they sit opposite each other, Stella still following the child's movements for instructions, but more so to interpret how the girl is doing.

She becomes distracted from the game. She realizes she's twisting her cell between her fingers, thinking of Mac. They have talked to each other every day, and she's glad of it. But on the phone, Stella shrugs although nobody sees this gesture of 'I don't know', on the phone it's different. Having only the voice to go on, not being able to look at each other. Not being able to touch each other.

Stella sighs involuntarily, causing Iota to look at her. Touch. It should be a good thing. She reaches out and brushes over the girl's curls for reassurance and Iota turns back to her game. It can still be a good thing. Iota trusts her, so she can learn to trust others again too. Stella had had to learn that herself. Maybe that is why the girl connects to her, she thinks. She senses that Iota is willing to move on, step by step, together with her.

She decides to call Nurse Alexander, to talk to her about things that can be done. Maybe start kindergarten again, and she could do a few hours of office work to relieve Mac. Maybe she could take some of that work home. Maybe they could meet Mac together. Stella smiles at the thought, it feels like bringing 'her' family together.


	17. on the way

**Thank you for the lovely reviews, so glad you haven't forgotten about this story. Many thanks to **_**autumngold**_** for the wonderful reviews for this and several of my other pieces, sorry I couldn't send proper replies.**

**The card I use here really exists, but other than that it's not mine I don't know who owns it.**** Possibly slight spoilers for "Open and Shut"**

Stella puts her finger against the window pane and traces the path of one of the raindrops. She enjoys watching the rain. She wouldn't mind being outside either, remembering quite vividly how she'd skip and dance through the courtyard of the orphanage, sometimes even without a coat, to let the raindrops split on her bare arms. Much to the dislike of the nuns who had kept telling her that she'd catch a cold. She never did. She still loves walking through the rain.

And she's fairly certain that Iota also wouldn't mind. There are other reasons why they don't want to go out. So they sit inside, watch the rain and have a hot chocolate, with marshmallows of course. And follow the raindrops, with eyes or fingers, trying to predict which raindrop on the window pane will travel fastest, gathering up others on its way.

Stella shifts a bit, the bullet wound is itching. Part of the healing process. It makes her think about Iota's wounds, invisible but yet much deeper. What will it take to heal them? Stella remembers a case, Grace Thomason's husband. She had wanted that case back then, feeling a connection. She had allowed the case to get to her and stand between her and Mac because she had thought that he asked her to ignore her emotions. But she had been wrong. He merely wanted to make sure that her emotions wouldn't cloud her judgment.

The case had opened old wounds and that had been good and bad at the same time. Bad because it had brought back the nightmares, good because they had been lingering anyway, a smoldering suppuration in her soul. Could it be the same with Iota? Should she try to talk to the girl, maybe open those wounds again? But she doesn't dare touch them. Give it time. Stella wonders again why Iota has let her in like this. _Is it because I was shot like her mother? Or does she feel that I was hurt in a similar way to her?_

A touch on her knee demands Stella's attention. Iota is looking at her and points to Stella's cup.

"That tastes better when it's hot." she says.

"Oh, honey, I know, thanks for reminding me."

Stella hides the hint of tears in her eyes behind the cup, quickly taking a sip of the comforting liquid.

--

"Detective?"

Flack turns towards the voice that, he assumes, has just called him. One of the receptionists of the lab comes walking closer, an envelope in her raised right hand.

"Detective Flack. Someone has left this for you." she hands him the brightly colored piece of paper.

"Uh-huh? Thanks." Flack takes the letter and turns it around in his hands. Indeed his name on the front, but none on the back. "You wouldn't happen to know who this is from?"

The woman shakes her head and leaves him standing in the corridor. _Could it be that I've spent too much time in the lab lately?_

He inserts his finger into the envelope and rips it open to reveal a card, pulls it out to read. He doesn't see Danny in one of the lab rooms get up and approach him.

Danny stops in the door and watches amazed as his friend suddenly turns approximately as red as the envelope clasped in his hand.

"Hey. What'd you get? Love letter?"

With a surprised gasp Flack drops the card, giving Danny the chance to look at it. The CSI picks it up, bending down faster than Flack who is still stunned. Danny turns the card to look at the front. 'I finally did it. I finally slept with a deep, dark and sensual …' Danny's eyebrows shoot up, he flips the card open. '… bar of chocolate.' _What? _

No signature. Danny looks at Flack inquiringly who now spreads his arms, shrugging at the same time.

"I thought maybe someone wants to tell me that I spend too much time here, but with such a card?"

"Well, you certainly do spend an awful lot of time here lately. One would think you don't like the precinct." Danny says, "Or don't have any friends there. That can't be, can it? I mean, take Jessica Angell. She's very nice. And deep …"

"Danny."

"And dark …"

"Danny!"

"Huh?"

"Cut it, just cut it! Okay!" Flack eyes his friend with a growing suspicion. "Wait a minute. Did you send me that card?"

Danny takes a step back, "What? Hey, why would I do that?"

"That's exactly what I'd like to know. You sure had the opportunity. The means, well, I guess that card is for sale somewhere. But what was your motive?"

"_My _motive? Well, if I _had_ done it, it would have been for pure fun. Though Detective Angell is really …" Danny trails off, catching a glare from Flack's eyes. "Hey, sorry, I have no idea what the motive could be. That's usually the hardest to figure out."

Flack has to agree. Sometimes even when they catch the criminal they can't find out why he committed the crime. Suddenly his thoughts travel back to Iota. Another case in which knowing the motive could actually help them catch the perpetrator. Hector Lakis could have done it wanting to protect her. Stuart Miller could have done it because he wanted her back. Two motives, but which one led to the crime?

Flack stuffs the card into the pocket of his jacket.

--

"Hey Sheldon," Sid greets the ex-fellow-ME, "have you seen Mac?"

"No." the younger man replies, "But I know that he's out on a case. Do you need anything?"

"No, I just wanted to ask about Stella and Iota." the ME pauses for a moment, un-clicking his glasses, "Are you getting anywhere with the case?"

"Will see. I had an idea; or rather I got an idea when I heard something Adam said to you. I'll let you know as soon as I get the results."

"Good. That's good. I hope." _Something Adam said to me_. Sid smiles.

--

Hawkes continues his work. He doesn't want to risk the evidence not being accepted in court so he is particularly thorough, running every test twice. Hardly daring to breathe when the computer finally spits out a result.

_Yes!_

Hawkes grabs his cell. His call is answered almost immediately. "Hey Mac. We got him. Remember the bullets from the weapon, the ones that didn't have fingerprints on them? I ran an isotopic comparison on them, the others that were in the gun, the ones from Hector Lakis, and Stuart Miller," he takes another breath, "and several other ones. I got a match. A 100 percent match, they can't be anybody else's." He pauses again, "I thought you'd like to tell Stella. I'll send Flack to arrest the guy." _And tell Sid, and Adam._ Hawkes smiles.

--

Mac calls Stella. A couple of rings and he's directed to voicemail. He thinks nothing of it. Maybe Iota has taken a nap and Stella has left her cell on vibrations only. He doesn't leave a message.

But it itches him to tell her. He looks around. He's finished here, and Stella's apartment lies on the way from the scene to the lab. He decides to take a chance, drive by and maybe meet her in the hall. It will only take a moment. He gets into his car and starts the engine.

A couple of minutes later his cell rings. He glances at the caller id.

"Hey Stella. Good news, I just wanted …"

His voice dies as he hears sobbing on the other end.

"Iota?"


	18. broken promises

**Thank you for the wonderful reviews. ****I really loved getting them. Thanks also to _autumngold, _sorry I couldn't send a proper reply. And thanks to anyone who has this on favorite or alert. I love checking my stats and see how many people are following this story, but even more I love to know what my readers think, so please don't hesitate to leave a review.**

Stella sets down her cup when she hears a knock at the door. Who could that be? One of her neighbors, or the super? She lets her finger brush over Iota's cheek with a smile and gets up.

She's just reached the door and is about to glance through the peephole when the door crashes open and slams into her face. She lets out a loud scream. Partly in pain but mainly to warn Iota. Stella forces her eyes open to see who is attacking her but her vision is blurred. She can feel blood trickling down along her nose. She tries to remain standing and to focus on the blotch of black she sees moving into her apartment. Tries to keep him out, but he just shoves her aside and she stumbles to the ground.

_Not that easily._

She aims for something black in motion and latches onto his leg. She's not going to let him get anywhere without her. For a moment he slows down, seems to ponder kicking her. She prepares herself for another blow of pain, but there's just silence. He appears to be listening for something. She doesn't need to wonder what for, she's sure that he's come for Iota. Stella fervently hopes that the girl has understood her warning and is hiding.

Then her cell rings. She tries to locate the sound, where had she left it? Any chance she can reach it? But her head is pounding too much.

--

Hawkes has called Flack who had just arrived at the precinct, and has sent him right off again. Now he's looking for Sid and Adam to spread the good news, Danny and Lindsay too. Sid is easiest to find. Hawkes sends him to the break room and makes his way to the AV lab, coming across Lindsay who he tells to join Sid. He guesses that she'll pick up Danny somewhere en route.

Not much later Hawkes himself enters the break room, Adam in tow. He smiles at the assembly. It would be nicer with Flack, Mac and Stella too, but they can have a proper celebration later. Sullivan's maybe. He intends to drink to Adam because it had been the young man's talk about DNA and the possibility to find out when two people are related that had inspired his testing of the bullets.

--

Stella claws her way up along the man's leg. He tries to shake her off but she's not letting go. She's determined to keep him away from Iota. Better still if she can distract him long enough for the girl to escape into the corridor. There's nobody at home on her floor, but once Iota is out there she can get further away.

Knees on the floor and feeling the wall against her feet Stella gathers momentum and pushes the man. Not having expected it he yields and they both tumble to the ground. With an angry screech Stella has a go at his face but blood dripping into her eyes reduces her ability to aim, and he's faster. He's up on his feet again but she has maneuvered him out of the hallway. And she has gotten his attention. He realizes what he has to do first.

He pounces on her. Stella tries to get up, wriggling herself out from underneath him, but she has no chance against his weight. She lets go of an angry breath. If her apartment has to become a crime-scene again she's going to make sure her friends will find everything they need. Lying on her belly with that man sitting on top of her, Stella's hands flail through the air, blindly searching for something to connect with. Flesh, DNA, to get under her fingernails.

Fighting on to win time for Iota.

--

"Iota? Is that you?" Mac's foot hits the gas as soon as he senses it's not Stella on the phone.

"Iota. What happened?" he tries to let his voice sound soft.

The girl already appears to be scared enough. And he needs her to talk. He needs her to tell him what happened. Though he doesn't really need to know more than what he already knows: that something is wrong. But what kind of help do they need?

"Iota, it's going to be okay. Just tell me what happened, okay?" He hears the girl sniffle. "I'm on my way, Iota. It's going to be okay." he's partly telling himself.

"He's … he's k-k- … killing her." Iota stammers.

Mac fights for control over his voice, dangerously close to losing that over the car. He's only five more minutes away. He can make it. They can make it.

"Iota." he focuses on the girl again, "I'll be with you soon, okay. Can you get out of Stella's apartment?" He hears a noise that sounds like a muffled 'yes'. "Good. Get as far away as you can, and stay out of sight. I … I have to hang up now. I'm going to call help, okay?"

Another muffled sound, echoing the earlier one. Mac ends the call and immediately begins a new one. He reaches Flack, tells him to reroute.

Mac's full attention is back to the road ahead of him, but at the back of his mind thoughts scurry._ What went wrong? I should have protected Stella better. What the hell went wrong? I promised to keep Miller away from them. Why didn't I tell Stella about the suspicion we had that Hector Lakis had something to do with it? I should have made sure that she was safe._

--

The ringing of Danny's cell interrupts the cheerful gathering in the break room. Lindsay glances at him as he answers it, hears Angell's voice, sees Danny's face fall.

"What?" she asks, directing the others' eyes to him.

"Something's wrong at Stella's place." He stares into the round.

Four pairs of eyes staring back at him.

--

Mac has his gun ready before he reaches Stella's floor. Not the same floor as the last time, not the same apartment, but it still feels like a déjà-vu. Quickly but quietly he approaches her door. Another difference, this time the door already stands open, a few splinters of wood on the floor.

He peeks inside. A few drops of blood on the carpet, leading him further in. He sees Stella's feet. And a man. The couch hiding most of their bodies from his view.

_Bloody bastard._ Mac aims carefully before calling out the required 'NYPD'.

The man looks up, Miller. "Hey. She was like this when I found her."

_Like hell. _"Get away from her." Mac doesn't lower his weapon one bit.

"What?" The man spreads his arms. "I didn't do anything."

"Just get the hell away from her now!" Mac hisses.

Benefit of the doubt, screw it. Mac knows deep inside this guy isn't telling the truth. He'll think of how to explain it later. Gives the man another split second before he pulls the trigger. And with a leap Mac is around the couch and grabs the man by his collar, unceremoniously dragging him away from Stella.

"What the hell was that for?" Miller sputters, "Damn it, you just shot me, an unarmed man! And I didn't do anything, I just found her."

"Shut up. Just shut up." Mac growls, "Or I'll shoot you again." He does point his weapon in Miller's direction again. _And make sure you stop whining._

He's back at Stella's side, bending over her. He gently nudges her, calling her name. She doesn't react. He examines her closely.

His breath leaves him when he feels no breath leaving her.


	19. all the evidence

**Thank you for the wonderful reviews. I loved getting them; please continue, always good to know what my readers think. Also thank you to **_**autumngold**_**, sorry I couldn't send a proper reply. And WOW, my first story that made it into the three-digit zone, special thanks to **_**Hazmatt**_** for lifting me there :). Also thanks to anyone who has this on favorite, or on alert. I hope you continue to enjoy it.  
**

Adam stands in the break room, looking like he's about to break into a run any second. And he wants to run, follow the others who are now on their way to Stella's place. Danny and Lindsay, and Hawkes. Not Sid, and that's why he's still here, hovering on the tips of his toes. One hand wrapped around his cell, having urged them to call as soon as they know anything. Whatever the message is. His other hand keeps brushing through his hair. He can't look away from Sid who has sunken into a chair.

The news and its suddenness have cast years on the features of the ME. His hands twist in his lap, wishing for something he could do to help. Trying to work out how this could happen. Trying to grasp the thought _that_ this has happened. One hand quickly passes over his eyes. He tries to remember, was there anything he could have done differently, faster? How could this get so out of hand? He's only vaguely aware of Adam's lingering presence.

Adam shifts his weight to his heels and balances on them for a moment. Then he's on his toes again. A sequence of events. Was there anything he could have done to change the outcome? He clings to his knowing that Stella is a fighter. He's sure that whatever happened, she has fought against it. But she might have lost that fight. He hates himself for that thought. He won't allow it to return. He talks to Sid. Silence may be golden, but thoughts can be lead.

--

Mac lets his left hand run along Stella's spine, his right hand on her neck to feel for a pulse. Ready to snatch his weapon up again his eyes remain on Miller.

Weak, erratic, but there, holding on; he feels a heartbeat. In a swift motion he turns Stella onto her back and gathers his breath. He needs it for two.

His breath lifts her chest; his hand stays on her neck. He feels her heartbeat strengthen into a calmer rhythm.

Every possible moment Mac's eyes control Miller's position, his ears making sure that the angry muttering keeps its distance, stays in the same place. He hears and feels a breath coming closer, a change in the muttering, persuasive now. And he knows that Iota is in the room again.

He struggles to keep his breathing steady, struggles against the demon rising inside of him. The demon that Miller has awakened. He doesn't want to shoot that man; he wants to see him suffer. Suffer the same pain and terror that he has inflicted on others.

Terror that fences in, painful bruises that don't seem to show. But he knows they are there, despite the strength he sees in Iota. The girl who has called for help for Stella and now comes back to possibly face her worst enemy. Iota sits down next to him and Mac sees her placing her little hand on Stella's waist. Feeling Stella's heartbeat and his breath at the same time.

Mac feels Stella's lips brush against his as her body arches upwards to draw a breath from his lungs. A moment passes and she gasps, again and again. Her eyes fall open, her gaze flickers across the ceiling. Then it clings to him. He smiles, a mixture of relief and reassurance. It's okay. They'll be okay.

After a few moments Stella tries to push herself into a sitting position, but her body tells her it's too soon and she sinks back again. For a moment her lips twist in frustration. She tries again. This time Mac is ready. He wraps his arm around her shoulders for support and slowly pulls her up. So she can _see_ that Iota is safe. Stella pulls the little girl closer and they hold on to each other.

Mac's eyes still continuously flicker back to Miller. The muttering slowly subsides. Either the bullet wound is weakening Miller, or the realization that he's not going to get out of this. They are going to make sure of that, together.

--

Flack and Angell arrive together with the paramedics they had called; everything having pointed to that medical help might be needed. Iota is not the kind of child to make a prank call, and Mac had heard and interpreted her voice.

After a silent discussion through their eyes Mac convinces Stella to get on the stretcher the paramedics have brought. He wonders if she's aware yet of how he has found her. With one more glance she asks him to make sure that Iota is alright. He looks at the girl now standing next to Angell. A weight is on his heart thinking that she'll have to go back to the childcare center, at least for a couple of days.

One of the paramedics is having a look at Miller. Mac fills Flack in on how he has found Stella. And Miller, giving Flack the reason why he has fired the shot. The two men look at Miller who has slumped onto the floor now and instead of muttering sends angry glances in Mac's direction. The CSI is sure that Miller is telling the paramedic how innocent he is. But having proof of how Stella has fought back Mac is sure that there is also evidence of who she has fought with.

Suddenly he feels a hand tugging his. He looks in the direction to see Iota standing at his side.

"Can we go with her?" she asks pointing to Stella.

Mac hesitates. To accompany Stella to the hospital is what he wants to do the most. But can he leave here, and is it sensible to take Iota? She has seen so much already. On the other hand, it can only get better now. And maybe to not be separated again, and see that Stella is alright and taken good care of is just what she needs at this time. He looks to Flack.

The tall detective nods, "We've got it covered here. Angell has called Danny when we drove here so I'm sure that he and the rest of the team are already on their way here."

A second ambulance arrives, for Miller. Was it faster than the first one? Mac wonders. He thinks that he's biased, it may have been the traffic; and he doesn't know when either one had been called. But he can't bear the thought that Miller might get treated sooner than Stella.

--

Lindsay stands in the room, taking pictures. She pushes her hair behind her ears, but stubbornly it keeps falling into her face. Bothering her like her thoughts do. She was relieved to find out that Stella is okay and has faithfully relayed the message to Adam. But the question remains how this could happen. The evidence she's taking pictures of isn't going to tell her that. Probably not even how it could have been prevented. She sighs heavily.

Danny gets up from the crouching position he had assumed to collect some swabs and faces her. "He's not going to get away again. We've got him, and he's going down, far down. Okay?" He keeps her hair in place with his hands.

She nods. "I know that. I just wish he'd be the only one who pays for what he's done. And not Iota, and Stella too."

She shivers at the thought of how coldhearted this man must be. Murdering two people, attempting to murder a third, to get his child back. Or 'my girl' as he had always said. And another shiver runs through her at the realization of what this means. Why he wanted her back. Cold, calculated evil. Placing misleading evidence to throw them of his track. Drawing Hector Lakis into this. She's sure now that the Greek had nothing to do with the murders.

--

Mac sits in the hospital waiting room with Iota. He's trying to sit still, to appear calm for her sake. The girl is still keeping a distance, shy and withdrawn, but she doesn't seem to have a problem to be in the same room with him, not even when they are alone. Mac draws his conclusion. The man who has caused all her pain is no longer a danger. She has seen him fall.

The door suddenly swings open without a preceding knock. Mac almost jumps off his chair. What is this man doing here?


	20. coming up roses

**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews I got for this story. Also thanks to **_**autumngold **_**and sorry I couldn't send a proper reply. Thanks to all those who have this on favorite or alert. Yes, this is the last chapter. Sorry it took me so long, but somehow I couldn't quite let go of it either. I hope very much that I can bring it to a satisfactory conclusion. It would be lovely if you could leave a concluding remark even if you've been quiet previously but have followed the story up to here. :)**

Flack looks back at the place that has become another crime scene. Not just another crime scene._ One of us._ Stella has made it out alive, but the possibility hits him hard. Somehow despite everything, everything on the job, everything he has experienced himself, he realizes that one always manages to push that possibility away in the end. Not like nothing has happened, but because it is a necessity to be able to go on. Not think about it every day, yes. Forget about it, never.

He follows Angell to the car, head bent with thoughts and unaware of the repeated glances she throws him.

"Hey," she addresses him, seeing the effect this case has on him, "we have a little time before we have to be back at the precinct. I know a place nearby that has excellent chocolate. Would you like some? My treat."

He looks at her, fumbling for the car keys and feeling some folded paper in his pocket, the card. He smiles. "Wonderful idea."

--

"Taylor, you shot an unarmed man, what the hell were you thinking?" the man roars.

Mac waivers for a second whether he should position himself before Iota or leave her in full view of Gerrard so that maybe the inspector will start thinking about what he says. Mac opts for covering her, after all Gerrard should already have seen her when he entered.

"I was thinking that you don't always need a weapon to cause a lot of harm." Mac puts all his anger in his voice rather than his choice of words. The words he's thinking of he doesn't want Iota to hear. That she senses his anger is something he can't avoid, it is apparent in his whole posture.

"Miller _was_ unarmed." Gerrard continues his tirade, "And maybe innocent."

"He wanted to kill Stella."

"You didn't see him do anything. You have no proof." Gerrard carries on while his mind is slowly working through the fact that something had just sounded strange.

And he finds himself staring at a little girl.

Mac is looking at Iota too. Pride floods his heart, and relief. Not because of what she just said, backing him up, Gerrard can still deflate that in no time, it's not evidence. But that she said it, that she stood up, unwilling to endure more pain caused by her father.

Gerrard still hasn't managed to say more than a handful of incoherent syllables when another person appears in the door, hovering in its frame and carefully studying Iota's reaction. Seeing no acute fear of him in her eyes Sid enters slowly.

"We still have to look into that matter." Gerrard eventually blurts and withdraws a little hastily.

Mac shrugs. That was to be expected. Then he turns to Sid.

"Adam has stayed at the lab and is getting to work as soon as he gets any evidence in. But there was nothing I could do there to help, so …" the ME shrugs, a little uncharacteristically lost for words.

He's glad when a doctor enters, announcing that they have completed Stella's examination and that she's doing fine.

"So can we go see her?" Iota pipes up.

"Yes, honey, you can." the doctor replies.

They follow the little girl through the door, just in time to see Nurse Alexander coming into the hallway. And Hector Lakis trying to withdraw from sight. Too late.

"Uncle Hector!" Iota throws herself into his arms.

--

Adam bobs up and down. Evidence he can work with has arrived but now that he's set up all the tests he's condemned to waiting again. Waiting that opens floodgates to thoughts. Thoughts about where this will go from here, because for him it's not over. His head shoots up as Hawkes enters, relieved because of both the distraction and the prospect of Hawkes' calming demeanor.

"Hey, I've got it all set up." Adam explains his idle hands, except that they aren't idle but brushing over his hair and flicking through the air.

Hawkes looks over all the equipment, indifferent machines. "Yeah. I thought so, that's why I came. Mine's all done too and I figured why sit around and wait when we can talk, if you want."

Adam nods visibly pleased although he has no idea what they could talk about. "Uh," he grasps for words, "you think Stella would mind … if I visit her later?"

"I can't imagine she would. Only problem I see is that she might not be at the hospital later. But you could meet her at Sullivan's." Hawkes winks, thinking that he's not going to let go of that celebration. He feels there is even more cause for it now, now that they have also found out who had harmed Iota.

Adam laughs a little. "That's just fine with me." He thinks about Iota, wondering if there is anything that he can do for her.

"You have done a great deal for Iota." Hawkes says, as if somehow sensing Adam's thoughts, "But you seem to understand her, and if you feel there is more you can do I'm sure she'll let you."

--

Lindsay casts the box an angry glance. Not that she's not glad when they can finally close this case, but the thought that all of this will go on some dark shelf bothers her. It feels like turning pain into just a number, cold words in reports. Everything neatly filed away, now forget about it please and move on to the next.

Danny gives her a grin. "Hey, look at the bright side. We were better than him. We got him, for good."

"What if we only got him because he made a stupid mistake? And if Stella had been his next victim …" Lindsay can't bear to finish the sentence even in her thoughts.

Danny too shudders at how close it had been. But he's determined to look up now. "We got him because we _are _better. And we'll get the next one too, and the one after that, and so on." He makes a little pause. "Even if that means that in the end we lose our jobs because there is no next one."

She can't help but break into a smile and he shares it with her.

--

Mac enters the room after a soft knock. He blinks as he sees the bed empty._ Where …?_

Stella reappears behind the bed, having crouched down to pick something up from the floor. "Sorry," she looks at him, "I didn't mean to worry you."

"That's okay." It's not like he had expected her to be lying in bed. Not Stella. On the other hand he's not particularly convinced he likes to see her dressed in street clothes.

She interprets that look on his face correctly too. "Mac, I'm fine. Just a couple of bruises … okay, a mild concussion too but I really don't need to sit that out here." She gives him a look he only understands partly.

"I understand how you feel about this but I really can't let you go back to your apartment." Mac makes a point.

"I know." A shadow flits over Stella's face. "I remember from last time that wasn't such a good idea. But I thought of checking into a hotel anyway because I want to take Iota along. She shouldn't have to go back to the childcare center because …" The look she has on her face now Mac understands full well.

"You didn't let her down." Mac traces Stella's jaw line with his fingers. _You almost gave your life for her. _He finds his voice sounding a bit muffled. "I assure you, you didn't let her down."

Stella holds his gaze and returns his touch.

"Iota's fine," Mac begins again, "and she will be fine. I saw how she reacted to Hector Lakis and I spoke with Nurse Alexander. Iota can stay with her uncle … if that's okay with you?"

Stella's eyes gleam. "Of course it is. I mean, she can stay with me any time she wants to but …" Stella bursts into a bright smile, "I'm just so happy for her, that this is finally over." The smile fades a little. "Though there is still a lot to work through ahead of her."

"You can still help her with that." Mac points out.

"Yeah." Stella looks down, pondering for a moment. "So, you found out who killed her mother and her stepfather?"

"Yes, sorry I haven't told you before. We have proof that it was Stuart Miller. And from what I have seen how Iota reacts to others I'm sure he was also the one who abused her."

"That's good that she's able to make a distinction. Very good." Stella sighs with relief.

"Yeah. She's strong, and clever. Like you, who knows, maybe you're related?" Mac smiles. "You should have seen her with Gerrard, and he sure didn't make a good first impression."

"Wait, when did she meet Gerrard? Was he here? Why was he here?" Stella bubbles.

Mac almost smiles, feeling a little cross-examined. "Apparently Miller complained because I shot him." Seeing Stella's eyes go wide he realizes that she had not been aware of that part of the events either. "I warned him, but …" He thinks he can see puzzle pieces fall into place in her eyes.

Without a word she pulls him into a hug. He folds his arms around her in response and feels her flinch ever so slightly.

"Sorry." he whispers, lifting his arms from the bruises on her back. "What … what did Miller do to you?"

She doesn't pull away, instead nestles her chin on his shoulder. But she avoids answering his question. "But … what?"

"But he wouldn't listen." Mac leans his cheek against hers. "And I felt that he was bad. I didn't know; I just felt it and I made a decision based on that." He feels Stella holding him tight. And he's willing to face the consequences, if there are any. "What did Miller do to you?" he asks again.

Stella snuggles into a more comfortable position. "First he only knocked me about. I got up again, or I tried at least." She feels Mac's fingers gently on her temple. "I tried again and again, but then he got on top of me. And then, I think he kneeled on me with his full weight. That's how I must have gotten the bruises on my back. And I couldn't breathe …" Stella closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "Sorry."

But she immediately feels that Mac is not disappointed with her. She remembers how everything had seemed to be floating away. Her surroundings, her memories, and then herself. She pulls back a little, feeling Mac yielding to the movement somewhat reluctantly.

She traces a hand over his temple. "Thank you for saving my life."

Mac pulls her back into his hold again. "I'm glad I could." Slowly he lets go of her. "Stella, I can't let you leave here and go someplace alone. Please understand," he anticipates her look, "it's not about taking care of you. I know you can do that yourself. It's about … me; I just need to know that you're safe."

"I understand." she says with a warm smile, "I wish I could know all of the time that you are safe. But please don't make me stay here."

"That wasn't my intention. But you could, well, I have a spare room." Mac cocks his head.

She beams at him. "That's very nice of you. But I have to warn you, I tend to snore."

"No problem." Mac chuckles, "Since when do I need much sleep anyway? So, what do you say?"

"I say yes, and thanks for thinking of bringing me these clothes," she points at what she's wearing, "but I might need some more. Can we go to my apartment first?"

"Sure. As long as we get you out of here."

He places a kiss on her forehead that she returns on his cheek. They walk through the door, hands on each other's backs.

-- --

So that's it. I hope it was anywhere near okay. Please don't hesitate to let me know what you think. Also, I have a poll on my profile where you can let me know if you'd like to see a sequel to this with more on how Iota is dealing with what's happened.


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